


Limerance

by Kyndred_Raven (Ravenna_Corvin)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Drama, Evolving Tags, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenna_Corvin/pseuds/Kyndred_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sess/Kag][CH 10 Up!][Weekly Updates] A wish gone terribly wrong sends the land into a second darkness. Amidst the chaos, a single light of purity and hope emerges, reborn from the ashes to follow the Lord of the Western Lands on his journey through the pandemonium. Fate dictated that he had to relinquish her to death. But as the only god and rightful sovereign of his domain, Sesshoumaru swore that no force - divine or otherwise - would ever take her from his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTES ABOUT THE SETTING:
> 
> This story takes place after the defeat of Naraku. There are a few key differences between the original tale in the manga and the one I will be writing, thus the category is actually cannon divergence. In order for this story to work, I've been forced to simplify the events in the manga a little and play with the timeline so that I can add in historical elements. In this fic, events exist as follows:
> 
> Nearly ten years have passed since Kagome first jumped through the well, and six since the evil Naraku's demise. The Jewel was not destroyed. The year is now 1556. Although peace now reigns in the land because Naraku is gone, the threat of the Jewel and the greed it breeds within the hearts of many still exists. Now is the time to wipe it out, and only Kagome can do so.
> 
> I realize that this may be unsettling, but I'd like my readers to try and imagine that Rin did not exist just yet. Imagine that our Sesshoumaru has gone through the epic story of Inuyasha as just himself, without experiencing that enigmatic compassion that he showed for his charge. 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy the read and the adventure as you travel through this new and revamped tale full of strife, passion, life, and feelings reaching across time itself. Reviews are always incredibly inspirational, and I cherish every single one. They help make all the time and effort spent completely worth it!
> 
> And now, without further ado...

 

 

 

-O-O-

_**Limerance** _

Prologue

-O-O-

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The priestess was crying.

Even from the great distance that Sesshoumaru stood from her, he could see the trails of tears shining in the fading sun. Her hair whipped around her face, thick bangs shielding her eyes from view. Dressed in red and black ceremonial robes, she seemed to float through a crowd of people, her sandaled feet not making a sound as they tread through the tall grass. She held her chin high, an elaborate golden headdress perched on the crown of her head. Deep rhythmic drumming accented her march through an open field, the atmosphere complimented by an artistic and hypnotic weaving of a soft koto and shamisen melody. Two women walked behind her, their heads lowered, an aura of sadness wrapped around them tighter than the sashes about their waists.

The priestess had come to be a sacrifice, a willing lamb lead to a ritual that would consume her soul. Giving up her life so that the existence of a thousand others could be preserved was a natural decision – she had claimed. All the mortals involved expressed a great sorrow at the thought of losing her, yet did nothing to convince her to alter her course. Even those she traveled with for many years did nothing. They had all simply closed their eyes and deferred to her decision.

Curiously, the one that said the least in protest was his brother. For as long as Sesshoumaru had known the priestess, he had heard whispers of her close bond with Inuyasha. Countless times, he had seen her life be saved only thanks to the strength of her protector, and even though Sesshoumaru knew as little of love as he did of sentiment, he had grown to accept the rumors as truth. Now, however, that acceptance had been shaken. His troublesome brother had not taken any steps towards deterring the woman from her self-destructive course. He'd had nearly a week to do so; the ceremony was a complex one and required preparation. Using the Jewel of Four Souls was not a simple task and required much more substance than a single accidental incantation.

The fateful moment had come quickly. Many mortals had gathered; many demons of great stature and power had arrived. The Jewel had been a thorn in the side of fate for longer than they could all remember. Now that the time had come for it to pass into reluctant memory, the lure of witnessing its end had proven itself stronger than the various ambitions and duties the demon nobility held by privilege of birth. Now, they all stood by with baited breath to watch the priestess sacrifice herself for a pure wish.

The humans mourned the event to come. They clasped their hands together, some bending their knees and kneeling in prayer while others looked to the heavens and wept as the priestess walked towards an elaborate altar of stone. Their grief in the face of this event was a concept he had trouble understanding.

Was one life not worth a thousand others? Was one woman's passing a stirring enough thing to provoke such sorrow in so many? She was just one human – one priestess – one grain of sand in a desert full of dunes. Ordinarily, her death would not even cause a ripple in the fabric of all destiny; with her sacrifice, it could mean so much more. Now, at least, her demise would be honorable; possibly, she would even be remembered for many years to come.

At last, her long procession complete, the woman stopped in front of the altar. The music faded into silence. Behind her, the pair of female escorts bowed and retreated. The crowd looked on in utter stillness. As though awaiting her arrival, the grey clouds above the clearing parted to envelop the girl in the center with bright rays of sunlight.

With a swift movement, she untied the sash of her heavy ceremonial robes; they fell to the ground like leaves shed by a dying tree, pooling on the dewy grass in ripples of crimson silk. Beneath, she wore a thin yukata – purest white. She raised her arms to the sky, the Shikon a glimmering light in her palms. Her lips parted, but no words emerged.

All the humans dropped to their knees, and the sound of prayer reached his ears. An old woman stepped forward and formed a gesture of sealing before her.

"The priestess will now make the wish! May the Gods grant us fortune in destroying the Shikon no Tama once and for all!"

Conviction filled her voice, but Sesshoumaru's sharp ears did not fail to hear the catch in it. A strong wind picked up, rustling the knee-length grass in the field. The trees in the forest surrounding it groaned and creaked as they swayed from side to side. The girl's lips parted farther, as if she was ready to speak; there was an odd thrumming in the air. The atmosphere shuddered with charged power, and as the tremors brushed against his skin, he suppressed a shudder of discomfort. He sensed the source was the girl's divine power.

**_"Stop!"_ **

The sudden tear in the curtain of silence made him start. He looked towards the source of the strangled yell and saw his brother charging towards the girl. Several men jumped to stop the hanyou only to be thrown back; a monk who tried to restrain him was knocked down without mercy. Then, a woman with long brown hair – the demon slayer – was pushed aside. Finally, a large, feline demon rammed into him full force; his brother was momentarily immobilized, but it was enough of an opening for the others to jump in and restrain him further.

"Let me go! Kagome! Stop this! ** _Stop!_** "

Inuyasha struggled beneath the huge cat demon's claws and his companions' strength, anguish written all over his face. It was a countenance Sesshoumaru recognized with ease. Those eyes betrayed the same desperation every time their owner rushed to save the one he cared for. Every time the priestess' life was in some sort of danger, that unseemly expression crossed his brother's face.

Disgusted with such a blatant display of weakness and loss of rationale, Sesshoumaru looked away. Despite the commotion, the priestess did not lose her focus. A light gathered around her, golden as the sunlight that caressed her skin. Although the wind got stronger and whipped her hair in various directions, he had yet to see her eyes.

Forgetting Inuyasha and his pathetic pleading, Sesshoumaru glided through the crowd in a circle until his view allowed him to see the Priestess from the front. He could not explain why he did so.

The moment was near; the Shikon's energy peaked and spiked. The sounds of Inuyasha's struggles continued, soon joined by shouting and cursing of his friends. Annoyed, he tuned them out, focusing all of his attention on the girl who now glowed like her very own sun. At last, she raised her chin, and her bangs floated upward, revealing all he wished to see.

Pale skin, soft rose-pink lips, cheeks stained by the tracks of tears, and eyes that were the color of the clearest lake. She was the epitome of selflessness, the scent of it seemed to permeate her very soul. Suddenly, she looked down and by some chance, her eyes found his. For a split second, his breath caught in his throat and a chill ran down his spine. He was certain that he would remember the poignancy of that moment for centuries.

"No! Please, **_no!_** " Inuyasha yelled.

It was over in a heartbeat. One moment, the girl stood there – radiant and alive – and the next, she was no more. A great wave blasted through the clearing, knocking down the humans and giving pause to all the demons.

A moment passed.

Then another.

The crowd began to gather its wits and regain its feet. Sesshoumaru sensed the transformation in the air as though it was a tangible sensation. The destruction of the Jewel was complete. Its sudden absence from the world felt as though a great flame had been put out. He'd never realized that he could always feel it in the back of his mind, but it had been such a natural part of the fabric of existence that he hadn't recognized it as something out of the ordinary. Now, the void it left behind felt almost like a raw wound, the sort that would ache for some time before it finally healed.

In the place where the girl had stood, a great fire erupted. The humans ran – some screaming, some sobbing. In the commotion, the demons began to take their leave, one after another. He was not certain how much time passed – it could have been hours – but eventually, only his brother and his captors remained.

The cat demon finally released Inuyasha from his bondage and without a second's hesitation the half-demon sprang up to leap towards the fire. He stopped a hair's breadth short of touching it, falling to his knees and digging his claws into the grass. At that moment, another thing happened that Sesshoumaru would not ever forget. Lifting his face to the grey sky, his brother let out a piercing howl.

In his entire lifetime, Sesshoumaru had never heard such a sound. It was regret – it was sorrow, rage, need, and hatred. The sound moved through the clearing like a storm, dominating everything, even the rustle of the trees. The demon slayer flinched and turned to the monk, hiding her face against his chest.

All the while, the fire continued to burn, seeming to be bound to that one place. Nothing around it was touched; nothing else was affected. The half-demon sitting before it tore gouges into the earth – uprooting plants and running his claws through rock and mud until they bled. Eventually, the monk and demon slayer stood and dragged him from the flames. He was too far gone to put up any resistance.

When they faded from sight, Sesshoumaru lost sense of time. He thought to stay until the fire burned out, but the crimson flames showed no sign of weakness. At last, he moved forward, curious to see for himself what the fire felt like up close. With every step, the last image of the girl's blue eyes flashed in his vision, haunting him with frustrating persistence.

Why couldn't he let go of that moment? Why did it cling to him with such intensity?

His brows furrowed, his mind retreating into deep thought. He stopped where his brother had stopped – just short of touching the flames. Looking deep into the fiery depths, he allowed himself to go over the events of the past day in his mind.

Perhaps it was the events of the night before the ceremony that were responsible. That evening, his curiosity had taken him on an exploration of the forest his brother had once claimed to be his own. It was there, nestled deep between an outcropping of three large rocks, that he found her bathing alone to purify her spirit.

Soft moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating her body beneath the rushing currents of a waterfall. Her head was tilted back, water trailing down her neck and flowing down to wrap around her. A mist gathered from the torrents clashing with the river at her feet, giving the entire picture an ethereal effect.

Despite her nakedness – despite the dips and curves that were vulnerable to his hawk-like golden gaze – the only element that caught his rapt attention was the color of her eyes. She was looking in his general direction, but her mind was focused elsewhere. It was enough to see the shadows moving in those large, blue, orbs to brand the instant deep into his memory.

Was that was the reason he had needed to see those eyes before her end today? He was sure that he would never see such depth again.

Before his outreached hand, the mystical fire crackled and brought him back into the present. What use was thinking of the past unless there was something to be learned from it? In his long years, he'd never wasted a moment in regret of any of his actions. The woman was gone. She'd left behind a legacy, a tale of sacrifice that would live long past her meager human years. That was it, then. There was nothing more to see here. Giving the flames one last expressionless glance, he turned and began to walk away.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. He took no more than three steps when he felt the heat from the flames disappear. There was a hiss, and he smelled the scent of ash.

 _Keep moving_ – his instinct warned.

But, Sesshoumaru was not in the habit of denying himself any desire. The siren's call of sating his growing curiosity proved too alluring to resist. He turned, his gaze sliding to the ground where the fire had raged moments prior.

His heart stilled, his blood freezing in his veins.

Before him sat a child dressed in a white yukata with eyes as blue as the moonlight that had whispered against the bathing priestess' skin. Its hair was the color of a raven's wing; its lips and cheeks were stained with the soft pink hue of cherry blossoms. The child's eyes bore into his; he was stunned into complete paralysis. With a soft sound, the creature stumbled to its little feet and took several, clumsy steps in his direction. It lifted its tiny hands towards him and took a small breath.

"Sesshoumaru…" it whispered with a voice as sweet as spring.

At that moment, he thought he'd faced a choice.

Later, he would understand that he'd really had none.


	2. Chapter 1

 

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Sesshoumaru was stunned. But, to admit to such would have been far too degrading. That he stood still, unable to move, hardly capable of thinking past his own shock, was already bad enough, but his frustration escalated when he couldn't regain his composure for several moments.

The child's unnatural azure gaze ensnared him. When she stumbled towards him and gripped one of his pant legs, he didn't know how to react. The very idea that flames had given birth to a living being who bore the priestess' features immobilized him. Reincarnation? Rebirth? It was possible, perhaps, if the Jewel was involved. But, so quickly?

While he contemplated the situation, the girl showed no fear. His very aura should have intimidated and frightened her, yet she displayed no sign of such emotion. In fact, her features remained as calm as the surface of a lake, the only ripples present in the furrow of her brow.

 _Such an expression does not belong on the face of a child_ \- he thought. _If she is a child at all._

As though sensing him direct his brooding in her direction, she craned her neck to look up at him.

"What are you?" he asked, his voice belying the trepidation he felt. The moment the question left his lips, he regretted voicing it. Did this creature even understand speech? So far, he'd only heard her utter his name. That was a mystery in and of itself. How would she know such things? Did this mean that this was some kind of reincarnation of the priestess after all?

"What _are_ you?" he repeated. Again, the girl didn't reply. If her eyes could have been windows, they would have shown him a star scape that led deep into her soul. Unnerving, this. Anomalous. None he knew displayed their hearts and true selves so openly for fear of their enemies. Children - human and demon alike - were taught from an early age to mask their feelings. This child, however, seemed pure. Untapped. Untouched. A blank canvas of flesh and blood.

"…maru…" she mumbled, tugging on his clothes. The action returned his attention to her.

_Do you have a name? Are you human? How did you emerge from that fire?_

Most importantly - _are you the priestess?_

No. This wouldn't do. Not at all. What interest could a child possibly hold for him? Standing here, drawn into her gaze and spellbound by her very existence, reminded him of those moments when his brother allowed raw emotion to deform his face and of every time he abandoned his demon pride to show concern for a human.

Ridiculous. Unseemly. Yet here he was, captivated _himself_ by this… _thing._

Letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, Sesshoumaru pulled himself from the child's grip, smoothed his face into a mask of firm indifference, turned on his heel, and walked away.

"Sesshoumaru," the girl murmured. This time, he hardened his resolve, and no matter how much his curiosity beckoned him to turn around, he did not. To erase all temptation, he took to the sky, allowing the crisp air to clear his head. A thousand more questions had been set aflame within his mind; it took all of his self-discipline not to dwell on them.

Getting mixed up in the affairs of mortals would not do. If that child was indeed a form of the priestess, then her instincts would lead her to safety. If she was simply a _human_ child – as illogical as that seemed – then nature would dictate if she was meant to live or not. And the fire? Well, he supposed that that wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen the Shikon no Tama conjure.

It took some time, but eventually the rugged peaks of his restlessness smoothed out into serenity. He pushed the incident to the back of his thoughts, wanting to focus on more pressing matters than dwelling on the existence of a useless creature. Stopping by his brother's forest to witness the ceremony of the Jewel had been a detour from the route of his usual patrol. It was time for him to resume his duties before he began the lengthy journey to his home.

Even though Naraku was long dead, there was still unfinished business to take care of in his territories – rowdy demons, rising rebellions, and general malcontent. Such things were easy to put down; the trouble was that sending vassals to carry out such missions only resulted in a waste of time and loss of servants. The only way to ensure the completion and efficiency of the tasks at hand was to perform them in person.

He had come to terms – over many years – that his life would be much like his father's. Home was a notion he would have to eventually discard. His lineage required an heir. Perhaps one day, he would choose a female from the nobility of the East or North to be his mate. She would become a symbol of his bloodline, one that remained at his estates and oversaw the business of his household while ensuring the continued cooperation of both clans. They would couple until an heir could be produced, and he would likely never see her again.

It was a fate he was quite content to accept. Companionship was the last thing he needed, for his own company was superior and far more pleasant than another's. Time moved slowly for his kind, and Sesshoumaru was more than comfortable witnessing it pass alone.

Over the years, seasons changed in the blink of an eye, sculpting new features upon the familiar landscape of the country. Villages either withered away or became towns. Roads were worn down or rebuilt. Humans lived and died within a bubble of relative ignorance to the complexities of demon laws and societies. But, for all their might and posturing, demons were slowly being hunted to extinction. Whether by their own foolishness or by the hand of the quickly growing human species, they would one day fade from knowledge and memory.

Wandering this ever-changing world gave Sesshoumaru new insights. He yearned to learn as much as he could, to ensure that his bloodline would survive the test of time and immortality. He enjoyed the peace and quiet of going where and doing as he wished. There was a freedom in this sort of life that he would have had to give up had he chosen to stay and rule his estates. As it was, there were plenty of underlings that could manage the task quite well.

When he did return, it was only to check upon the state of things or to appoint new retainers. Unfortunately, with Naraku on the loose, he had not had time to see his estates in many years. Despite his hesitation, he now had no choice but to ascertain their fate.

When the trees began to thin out beneath him, Sesshoumaru decided to return to ground. As soon as his feet touched the earth, he realized he had neither eaten nor rested in some time. His nose picked up a multitude of nearby scents: humans, fields, leaves, dry bark, a few lower demons, and – he frowned – the stench of pigs. Something else was there too, perhaps something that could be hunted. Was it a deer? Perhaps a strong and proud stag that could provide some short-lived amusement and a chase?

Interested, he followed the trail, periodically pausing to give his supposed prey a chance to get ahead. Stalking his potential victims was a pleasure he could not forgo, no matter the level of his hunger. Some of his kind hunted humans for this purpose, but he'd never enjoyed the taste of human blood. Consuming it felt much like drinking stale river water. Peasants, commoners, and even most human nobility tasted too much of greed and toxic darkness. Rumor was that noble and pure maidens were free of such taint. Some even claimed that their flesh could increase a demon's strength.

 _Foolishness_.

He had no need to tear through such a maiden's veins in a pathetic scramble for added power. No. If at all possible, he wanted to avoid humanity entirely. Irritated that he'd allowed his thoughts to wander, Sesshoumaru focused all of his attention on the stag once more.

As he pursued the beast through the lush woods, the curtains of the forest parted before him. He moved at a lazy pace at first, but when the scent of fear reached him, his heartbeat quickened. That scent was irresistible. As was the tang of adrenaline. The beast had sensed his presence and was now running madly for its life. Sesshoumaru followed, still holding back, still taking pleasure in tormenting the creature and rejoicing as it sank further and further into helpless terror. Another deer joined the first, then another, until four stags were running from him in earnest.

Sesshoumaru allowed all surface thought to disappear. Like mist, it faded into nothingness, leaving behind only primal instinct. He floated through the trees and branches, not a single piece of foliage touching him. Silent. Deadly. An inevitable and perfect doom to any that stood in his way.

Eyes blazing red and claws glowing with acidic poison, the demon caught up to the beasts, his chest rumbling with a growl of satisfaction. The first two stags stood no chance. Sesshoumaru pounced on both with lithe and deadly grace, tearing into flesh and bone. The animals bellowed as their heads were severed and their bodies torn asunder, thick dark blood spraying in fountains towards the sky. In seconds, the ground was soaked through. Sesshoumaru licked his claws, thrilling at the taste of hot blood spiced with fear and panic.

Immediately, he tore after the next victims, catching up to the third stag in mere moments. Again, he pounced. Again, he spilled its blood. This one was larger than the first. Older. Knowledge and experience surged through its sinews. Knowing he could still catch the last of them even if he took time to feast here, Sesshoumaru did not hesitate. He ripped his prey wide open and devoured the stag's heart, relishing in the feeling of bones snapping beneath his bare hands.

He stayed no longer than necessary. The thought of prey escaping him did not sit well with his pride. Leaving the lifeless corpse behind, he chased after the faint trail of the last stag's scent.

So engaged in the hunt was he that he hardly noticed the sun setting. It was only when he came to the edge of a riverbank and saw the moon reflected in the water that he realized how late it had gotten. He expected to find the last of his victims thrashing in the torrents of the river to escape with its life and cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

What he saw instead stole his very breath.

Ribbons of moonlight fluttered over the magnificent antlers of one of the largest stags he'd ever encountered in this forest. His instincts had been on the mark. This animal had seen many seasons. Its blood would taste finer than aged wine. But what truly caught Sesshoumaru's attention was the figure that stood next to it, a female human child with raven hair and a white yukata.

Her clothing was in tatters. There were twigs and dead leaves in her hair. Mud covered her legs all the way up to her knees. Crystal clear blue eyes stared up at him with unnatural sentience for someone of her age, the gaze immobilizing him.

_Kagome_ _…_

The name came unbidden to his thoughts, though he still couldn't rationalize how such a thing was possible. The stag lowered its proud head, suddenly no longer tense or afraid, almost as though Sesshoumaru's presence was nothing more than a passing breeze. Its eyes closed as small pale hands caressed its snout and whispered something into its ear. The animal snorted softly and and rubbed its nose against waves of dark hair. It pawed the ground of the riverbank, upturning pebbles and stones. The child's blue eyes returned to face the demon's, small frail arms coming up to embrace the stag's head in a gesture of protective determination.

"Sesshoumaru," the child whispered.

_How? How did you follow me? How did you find me? How did a helpless child survive this forest? How is any of this possible?_

So many questions, yet his self-respect would not allow him to ask them. He was above such things and above admitting to the fact that this being utterly and completely mystified him.

His heart still pounded with the excitement of the hunt. A red haze lingered over his vision. The stag's scent sang to him, but the child's helplessness and purity was far more tempting. Had he not possessed such an aversion to human blood, he would have slaughtered her on the spot. As it was, he simply wanted her gone.

"Move aside," he commanded. She shook her head. His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered to a dangerous pitch. "That was _not_ a request."

Step by step, he approached her, expecting the animal beside her to flee. Yet, it did not move. Sesshoumaru stepped onto the river bank, feeling soft dirt and loose stones shifting beneath his boots.

"I _will_ cut you down," he told her. The stag's large glassy gaze met his own. Within, Sesshoumaru saw his blurred and distorted reflection. His hands and face were bestrewn with blood, painting a picture of ferocity and ruthlessness. But, neither the child nor the buck flinched away. Despite his threats, the girl and her charge stood their ground.

Just like before, she had to crane her neck to look all the way up at him. Conviction, pure and raw, gave her courage sanctuary, flashing in her icy gaze. She meant to protect this animal, though logical reasons for her actions eluded him. What could she gain from this? What reason would she have to risk her life to shield this creature?

All around him, the sounds of the forest faded away. His tense poison-covered hand lowered to his side, the claws retracting to their normal length.

"Leave," he ground out.

No response.

"Be gone."

Again, nothing.

A spark of anger ignited in his chest. Sesshoumaru knelt down before her, running a single claw down the side of her face. Gently. Carefully. It would have been too easy to pierce her skin. Then again, why _not_ just kill her? Why not just finish the sacrifice that she, herself, had started in the clearing? It would be so simple. Just one flick of his wrist and she would be splayed open from nose to navel. Her feeble bones would shatter like glass, as would that doll-like absence of emotion on her face. No more trouble; no more curiosity; no more wondering. As though sensing his intent, the stag gave an angry snort and stomped its hooves. Sesshoumaru met this threat unflinchingly.

"Leave or you, too, will be destroyed." His less patient side dictated that he make good on his threat. After all, what was one animal's life in comparison to his great pride? Would he let this beast escape on the whim of a girl?

When the animal lowered its head in preparation of a strike, the child pattered over to Sesshoumaru and stood in front of him, her arms spread out and her back facing him. His eyes examined that small back, the shoulder blades that looked no more sturdy than eggshells. He couldn't see the expression she showed the animal, but the stag immediately calmed. When she shook her head in a firm gesture of denial, her hair released a cloud of a scent he'd never smelled before. It was sweet and delicate, like crimson amaryllis flowers in the prime of spring. Giving Sesshoumaru one last wary glance, the stag moved around them and retreated into the darkness.

After some time passed and she did not budge, Sesshoumaru called forth poison to his claws. The wind shifted through her hair, giving him another glimpse of her thin neck.

 _Like eggshells_ \- he mused. Vulnerable. Soft. Perhaps this once, he could make an exception. Perhaps this once, human blood wouldn't taste so -

His thoughts ground to a halt when the child turned around to face him. Her apathetic face transformed. Instead of a blank and expressionless look, the corners of her lips tipped up into a barely perceptible smile. This irritated him, for it meant that she didn't take any of his threats seriously. His jaw clenched. He was ready to melt her with his poison when something cold pressed against his face.

Immediately, the haze of blood lust left his vision; he realized that her small hand was touching his left cheek. The other hand joined it, brushing against the right side of his face. Tiny fingers traced the dark stripes there.

"Sesshoumaru…" Her azure eyes softened. "Sesshoumaru…kind."

Hers was not a child's voice; it was the sound of summer rain, the rustling of an autumn breeze. He not only heard it; he _felt_ it, too. Slowly, his hand lowered once more. He recalled how the stag had nuzzled against her, recalled the serenity and peace in its expression. With each second that passed, the restlessness within his own heart receded. He was nothing like the stag, yet the comparison was inevitable. With a single touch, with a mere gesture, this girl had driven back the beast within his soul.

For the first time in his life, Sesshoumaru was afraid. The emotion felt like venom, eating and chewing through his awareness, threatening the foundations of his perceptions of the world. For that, the girl deserved to die. She was an anomaly of nature, and she threatened much. If she could so easily unbalance a demon of _his_ stature, then she could do so for others. Should she rejoin her human brethren, she could be a potent weapon against many a demon.

She had to die. Tonight. Yet Sesshoumaru could no sooner strike her down than he could harm himself. Peace, clear and true, bound his actions. His heart felt light. His soul felt disjointed from the demonic shadow that had been his ever-present companion since his birth. He stood and stepped away from her, shaken and disturbed. For reasons he would never understand, he let her live that night.

He walked away from her – again – hoping that this time, she would not return.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note: I've created an adventure map to help my readers follow along with the story. It can be found here: http://kyndredraven.deviantart.com/art/Limerance-SesshoumaruxKagome-Adventure-Map-581616884
> 
> Some changes have been made to the notes in chapter 1 as well.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

 

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**Limerance**

Chapter 2

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It was a five to six day flight from the Musashi to the Settsu province, the first stop in investigating the new threat to Sesshoumaru's territories. Sesshoumaru proceeded at a comfortable yet efficient pace. He only landed to briefly rest and hunt, unwilling to waste more time than necessary. He believed - or hoped, perhaps - that his pace and speed of travel would be impossible for the strange child to endure. She moved on foot, after all, and even at a lazy pace, Sesshoumaru flew quicker than the fastest of mounts. However, as each day passed, Sesshoumaru grew more and more concerned, for no matter how far he traveled, the girl always managed to find him and catch up.

The human runt had, in the span of a few short days, become worse than a plague. She was a curse. A nuisance. He held no responsibility for her. Theoretically, he shouldn't care if she was following him. But it wasn't just the fact that she was keeping up that bothered him. It was the fact that she had become a recurring and aberrant presence in his daily life, made all the worse by the knowledge that he was unable to kill her. That stung. That he, Sesshoumaru, was _unable_ to do something meant that he had fallen beneath something. It was a callous on his pride, a stain upon his otherwise flawless notoriety.

Since the night at the lake, he refused to acknowledge her presence, theorizing that she would eventually fall off like a dry scab from a healing wound. Yet, nothing had changed. She followed him with unwavering conviction, her clothes and hair growing dirtier and dirtier with each day. As impossible as it may have seemed, she was still uninjured. She had yet to say anything but his name and a few random words. When she did catch up to him, he watched her warily out of the corner of his eye as he rested, unnerved by her silent and tranquil demeanor, traits that did not belong to a child her age. It seemed that she was content to simply be near him, gazing wordlessly at the sky or walking between trees and rubbing her hands on their bark.

Animals gathered around her. Despite his threatening presence, they were not afraid. She welcomed each visitor with the same unnatural reticence, her expression ever harmonious, ever placid and serene. At some point, Sesshoumaru entertained the idea that she was somehow communicating with these creatures wordlessly. Adding that theory to the rest of the mystery that was her existence daunted him. All of these strange abilities marked her as something other than human, yet she was no demon either. The purity and strength of the spiritual energy about her was so profound that it offended even _his_ sensibilities. Shinto priestesses gifted with powers like the late Kagome's and Kikyo's were few and far between. To see something like this in a child so young…

 _Are you Kagome? Or are you merely a threat?_ \- he asked no one in particular for what felt like the hundredth time. _Are you a danger with that small body and that listless gaze? Should I destroy you before you do any harm?_ Bold words for a demon who lost all will to kill when he looked into her eyes. That she had such power over him was too infuriating to describe in words. From Sesshoumaru's point of view, there were only two outcomes to this ridiculous scenario. Either the child would eventually succumb to hunger or the elements and die or he would one day be able to overcome whatever spell she'd cast on him and would kill her himself.

On the fifth day after the Jewel ceremony and the final day before his arrival in Settsu province, Sesshoumaru's travels were interrupted with the arrival of one of his retainers. He expected to see Jaken greeting him on the flying two-headed dragon. Instead, a man wearing luxurious white robes trimmed with golden flowers approached him from a distance. His mouth was set in a cunning smile, eyes wide, slanted, and trimmed with long white lashes. His silver hair was complimented by a pair of white ears, and three furry tails trailed behind him in the wind.

 _A kitsune_ \- Sesshoumaru thought with some displeasure. He motioned for the dragon to land, deferring all greetings and questions until they could speak in a secluded area. When the fox demon dismounted, he immediately bowed low in respect, tugging at his sleeves so they wouldn't drag on the ground. Sesshoumaru dug through his memories, trying to recall if he'd ever met this demon before. It took some time, but he did remember seeing him after the incident with the panther tribe some years ago. On a rare occasion, the servants running his estates sent him reports in person. All those years ago, they'd chosen this demon, who had apparently earned a reliable reputation in his father's service.

"Susumu," he nodded.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," the fox demon breathed euphorically, remaining in a bowed stance. "I am _honored beyond words_ that you remember the name of this lowly servant. I beg you to forgive my rude intrusion; however, there are urgent news of the conflict from the fronts of Settsu and Harima provinces."

"Jaken was ordered to investigate this matter."

"He implored your forgiveness, My Lord, and sent me to report to you in his stead. There have been some…unexpected difficulties and developments." Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed. He shifted his weight between his feet. Kitsune were tricksters and clever liars who fled rather that fought when the situation called for it. He was not comfortable with one carrying out such important orders, nor did he trust his claim of Jaken's request. He'd known the kappa for over one hundred years. No matter the circumstances, he would have personally made the trip to see Sesshoumaru in order to fulfill his orders. Did this mean that his authority was being questioned? Unacceptable.

"If your explanation doesn't satisfy This Sesshoumaru…" he left the threat hanging in the air, satisfied when the kitsune visibly cowered at the tone of his voice.

"This humble servant exists only to venerate and serve you, My Lord," Susumu rushed to say. "My life is yours to do with as My Lord wishes." Somewhat soothed by this shallow pandering, Sesshoumaru gestured for the kitsune to proceed. Relative stranger he might be, but at least he knew his place. "We investigated the rumors as you commanded, My Lord, and found that the rebellion is more organized than we could have imagined. It is led by a single man - one who calls himself Katashi."

"A human, then…"

Susumu nodded. "We believe he has origins with the Ouchi Clan."

 _The neighboring human clan, is it?_ _They are well aware of our claim to the Saigoku region. They wouldn_ _'t dare interfere. He must be acting alone._

"This one is strong," the kitsune continued. "He is powerful of will and a master tactician. His army and his followers have grown quickly. They now call themselves the Relegation and even have their own crest. They leave their standard in every village they burn."

 _A challenge? -_ Sesshoumaru mused. _But to whom? Or perhaps a warning, though this man_ _'s actions seem utterly preposterous. If he is from Ouchi, then he knows of our strength. He can't imagine that the greater demons will allow him to do as he pleases._

"A motive…"

"None yet, My Lord, but something drives this man past mortal limits. Whispers say he cannot be killed, and there are witnesses who have seen him carrying what can only be a demonic halberd. Envoys sent to negotiate from the North have all been killed, and these were no lower demons." Susumu frowned, his narrow eyes opening to reveal violet orbs. The ears atop his head lowered back. "Master Saorabi's son, Ahie, is dead."

 _So, not only has this vermin blatantly challenged the only natural authority in the West, but he now has the heir of the North_ _'s blood on his hands._ Sesshoumaru felt no pity for the Lord of the North. Clearly, his son had been a weakling. To be killed by human hands was the highest dishonor for a demon of any station. Worse for one of noble birth and blood. However, this human, Katashi, warranted further investigation. A human that could kill a Daiyoukai's son singlehandedly could not be allowed to roam free.

"Gather more information," he commanded. "This Sesshoumaru will arrive in Settsu by tomorrow."

"As you say, My Lord," the kitsune bowed once more. "We will do our best to uncover the motive behind these attacks."

"It may not matter," Sesshoumaru countered. "Their deaths will soon come by This Sesshoumaru's hand." Susumu raised his head and smiled, his ears perking up once more.

"Indeed, My Lord."

"And what of the Chukogu region?"

"There is unrest, especially after the recent battles the humans have waged upon each other. The Ouchi clan continues to passively disobey our envoys. They bring in trade from the Continent, even weapons that are strange and mystical. With that trade come missionaries who deny the Shinto religion and undermine our very existence in the eyes of humans."

"Yamaguchi castle is close to the border of the Estates."

"The Ouchi Clan base? My Lord has considered destroying them, then? It would be a fine warning." Before Sesshoumaru could reply, he heard an all too familiar rustling in the trees. Susumu started, immediately drawing his katana and preparing for combat. "Who's there?" he demanded. After a moment, a figure clad in a filthy white yukata emerged from the shadows. Sesshoumaru's blue-eyed and raven-haired curse stumbled from the shrubbery, more twigs and leaves hanging in her hair. His irritation was short lived. After all, he'd decided that this situation would resolve itself one way or another. The kitsune, however, was unprepared. Surprise and confusion were written all over his face. Curious as to how she would affect the fox, Sesshoumaru observed his servant in silence, allowing this to play out as it would.

"Sesshoumaru," the child called as always, seeming oblivious to the presence of the other demon beside him. Sesshoumaru's attention was momentarily redirected when he saw a spot of blood on the child's sleeve. So, she _could_ be injured after all. Was she human, then? If she continued to insist on following him, would she eventually die as he suspected? Taking a silent breath, he tried to smell the injury, yet when he did, he discovered that the crimson stain was residue from some sort of forest berry. The annoyance he felt at that nearly rivaled another mysterious feeling - was it…relief?

Ludicrous.

"M-My Lord…" Sesshoumaru refocused his attention on Susumu. The kitsune's ears were pricked back, his tails swishing irritably. His white fur stood on end. The hand on his sword was firm, but there was no way that he could conceal his trembling. Interesting. The child padded towards them. When she was several meters away, Susumu took a few steps back. "What _is_ it?" he bit out.

"A nuisance," Sesshoumaru replied.

"There's a strong spiritual aura around it, yet it doesn't smell human…" He looked around. "Where did it come from?" Suddenly, the girl's gaze swiveled from Sesshoumaru to the kitsune. She blinked as though seeing him for the first time. Once. Twice. Then -

"Fox…" she breathed, her voice small and lilting. The kitsune's face paled. She stepped closer to him; not even Susumu's battle-ready stance fazed her. Blue eyes followed the movements of his tails, a trance-like fog falling over her expression. "Fox…" It was one of the only words aside from his name that Sesshoumaru had heard her say in five days. He wondered - very briefly - if he should intervene, but this scene was proving to be interesting on a number of levels. Why was Susumu so intimidated? The way he was backing up, despite being an armed opponent against a child that barely reached to his knees, was absurd. Yet there was real fear in his eyes. Real panic. Then it clicked. Would he swing that sword? Would he try to cut her down? A part of him wanted to know - wanted to see if she _could_ be killed.

"M-My Lord…" the kitsune stuttered. "My Lord, is this creature in your service?"

"This Sesshoumaru makes no habit of keeping vermin as pets," he answered.

"T-Then…" The girl shuffled closer and closer. As soon as she was within the proper distance, Susumu cut outwards in a brilliant silver arc. Sesshoumaru heard the edge of the blade slice through the air. _This is it_ \- he thought. Yet just as the sword would have severed the child's head from her shoulders, the blade stopped as though possessing a will of its own. With sharp and rapt attention, Sesshoumaru observed as Susumu's violet eyes lost their focus. His slitted pupils dilated. As seconds ticked by, beads of sweat gathered on his skin. He looked petrified, his muscles rigid, his pallor intensifying, and his sword arm quivering. A beat, then he dropped to one knee, gasping for breath as though he'd just been drowning. The blade clattered harmlessly to the earthen ground. The girl, undaunted, continued to move to her original destination, stopping right in front of the kneeling demon. When he looked up at her, his eyes were still unfocused, but the expression on his face was one of anger.

"Monster," he snarled, his face now on the right level to glare into her eyes. "Just what _are_ you? How can you -"

"Fox," the girl cut in. Susumu's words ground to a halt when the child reached up and touched his ears. Despite the fact that he was clearly perturbed by her actions, Sesshoumaru theorized that he was still somehow immobilized. The girl's hands gently caressed the fur of his ears, then stroked through his bangs, then finally moved to cup his face. "Fox...sad," she said, tilting her head to the side like a curious bird. His eyes squeezed shut, and Sesshoumaru finally understood why he was so afraid. He thought the child wanted to purify him. He supposed it might have been possible. He still had no idea just how powerful this girl was. However, he had yet to see her harm a single living thing. As though sensing that his thoughts were directed at her, the girl turned back to him, still petting the top of the kitsune's head.

 _As I suspected. She is a threat. If she can immobilize demons with a mere glance, then allowing her to live would be a mistake._ Just as before, however, he couldn't muster a single spark of killing intent. It was as though she'd bound his desires somehow. He took a step forward, raising his hand. In that moment, Susumu regained his senses. He shoved the girl back full force, knocking her violently into the ground.

"Get away from me, _monster_ ," he hissed. Grabbing his sword from the ground, he leaped backwards to stand beside Sesshoumaru. "My Lord…"

 _Yes. I know. We need to slay it. But that seems to be impossible._ He followed the child's movements as she regained her footing, noted the way that she winced when stepping on her left foot. Susumu hadn't used any restraint. She was hurt and dazed. Perhaps now was the time to strike. Rubbing at a bit of grime on her cheek, the girl looked up at him again. Confusion. Surprise. She hadn't expected this. Damn this thing and its lack of common sense.

"…maru?" she mumbled. Would she cry? Somehow, the mental picture didn't quite fit. He raised his hand farther.

"Don't worry, My Lord," Susumu cut in. "Allow this humble servant to take care of this _pest_ for you."

"Leave," Sesshoumaru snapped.

"My Lord?"

"You have orders to carry out, do you not?"

"But…"

" _Leave._ " Susumu cringed and sheathed his sword.

"As you command, My Lord." He made his way over to Sesshoumaru's flying dragon, mounted it, and urged it into motion. The kitsune disappeared with a flap of the dragon's great wings, taking to the sky without further word of complaint. Sesshoumaru thought he might have imagined it, but he guessed that the kitsune was grateful for the reprieve. His servant's cowardice chafed. To know that such craven demons called themselves his retainers was to feel the sting of dishonor. The knowledge that such a demon's name would be associated with his own weighed heavily upon him. At least, until a small weight bumping into his leg tore him from his dark thoughts. He looked down to see that the girl had run over to him, clutching at his pant leg much like she had on a few occasions past. He felt her quivering. What was she doing? Seeking protection? Surely not from _him_. Then again, time and experience had proven that this girl didn't have a shred of common sense when it came to danger.

Just like he had before, Sesshoumaru stepped out of her grip and moved on. He didn't have to look back at her to know that she was limping. Somehow, the knowledge that she _could_ be injured was comforting, in its own way. It meant that once Sesshoumaru could figure out how to break the odd spell she'd woven over him, he would be able to take her life as he once wished to do. That realization returned some power into his hands. If there was something he hated, it was being unable to hold absolute reign over anything. Despite this temporary set back and the curse that was this paradoxical child, he was still in control. His ego set at ease with this notion, he put all consideration of her to the back of his mind. At this point, she'd once again become as insignificant as the grass beneath his feet.

He continued his path towards the Settsu province. Here, the thick forests had thinned out to give way to luscious fields that had not yet seen the grizzled touch of autumn. The wind toyed with the knee-length grass, its invisible yet tangible fingers caressing and weaving between the long strands. He told himself that he chose to walk now because he wanted to take in the last breaths of summer and to make sure that he learned the lay of the land as he had been unable to do in the years that Naraku had wreaked havoc upon the countryside. Certainly, it was not because he wondered if the child could keep up with him on an injured foot. Certainly, it was not because he thought that she might lose track of him if she couldn't move as quickly as before.

They reached the border of Settsu well before sunset, stopping by a secluded riverbank while Sesshoumaru thought of how to proceed. There was much to consider now that Susumu had delivered his report. Was the best course of action punishing the entire Ouchi Clan? Or was it better to go after this Relegation and the man who led it? Rumor said he couldn't be killed, but legends had a way of turning to dust when tested by someone with enough power to destroy them. In this realm and in this land, he, the Great Sesshoumaru, was one with such might and the only one who could make claim to true immortality. Subconsciously, his hand brushed against the Bakusaiga. This sword, alone, was proof enough that he had surpassed his mighty father. Anyone who challenged him would pay dearly.

The sound of splashing caught his attention. He glanced towards the riverbank and saw that the girl was shucking off her yukata and wading into the shallow end of the water. Though it was summer, the water was still frigid, yet the child didn't even flinch when she dipped her body into it up to her neck. Sesshoumaru watched as she rubbed the dirt and debris of travel from herself. She picked out the dead leaves and twigs from her hair and ducked underwater to weave out the tangles in it. When she stepped back out, she pulled on her clothes, but not before Sesshoumaru saw how thin and scrawny she was. The thought of her methods of survival hadn't really troubled him up until now. He'd chalked it up to her supernatural abilities. Seeing the ribs clearly defined on her torso, however, reminded him of the first time he'd seen her after the ceremony. Her full rosy cheeks and glimmering pale skin were now replaced with a grey tinge. Her cheekbones looked prominent, and now that he could see beneath her clothing, he noticed multiple scratches and bruises discoloring the skin of her legs.

 _She_ _'s barefoot_ \- was his stray thought. So, following him _was_ taking a toll on her. Why, then, was she persisting? They'd passed numerous villages during the past five days where she could have gone to take shelter. Resentful of his inability to get this creature out of his mind and out of his life, Sesshoumaru perched upon a nearby rock. He attempted to check the direction of his musings, knowing that it was crucial that he come up with a plan of action to deal with the Relegation and the threats it presented. Not only that, but if foreign influence wasn't stymied now, the way of life for demon nobility would be threatened. That particular problem wasn't his alone, but there _was_ something he could do about it. Now that the Lord of the North had lost his only son, Sesshoumaru knew that he would come to him with an offer of alliance. Once, the North had been on good terms with his father, but many years had passed since his death. Things were different now, and the North hadn't been of much assistance during Naraku's rampage.

With humans fighting tooth and nail for power and control over the provinces, there was little room for error now. Damn Saorabi and his indecisiveness. If he chose to hesitate when it came to leadership, then he was not fit to be an ally of the West. Besides, Sesshoumaru needed no alliance to take care of a minor uprising in his own lands. He would find this human, and he would deal with him in a most painful and most satisfying way. Without looking to see if the child was following him, Sesshoumaru once more set off towards the heart of Settsu. By morning, he would be in place to start his search.


	4. Chapter 3

 

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**Limerance**

Chapter 3

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Though Sesshoumaru had never spent much time in Settsu province, he remembered it as a forested land cradled by mountains with fertile grounds for farming and large flowing rivers with waters as clear as pure springs. He recalled visiting this area with his father once and taking in the sights of massive human palaces and homes being built on riverbanks. Lush gardens had surrounded those homes, filled with flowers, trees, and chiseled statues of all kinds. At the time, he hadn't held much of an opinion of such frivolous architecture, though his father had dubbed the humans' craftsmanship "pleasing to look upon".

Traveling through Settsu in the present day forced Sesshoumaru to question his own memory of it. Since his last visit, things had drastically changed here. War and chaos had been branded into this land with a callousness and cruelty that even someone like Sesshoumaru could not condone. The castles and wooden palaces with their crimson rooftops and finely polished walkways now lay strewn across the land as nothing but piles of ash and rubble. The province was scarred and ravaged, no longer cradled by the mountains but imprisoned by them. Rivers ran red with the blood of those who lived here, and those that could have farmed the land had either fled the war or fallen victim to it.

The Relegation had attacked the majority of the prominent estates and villages in the province, forcing the Miyoshi - the ruling human clan - to fall back west towards the province of Harima in order to seek refuge. Every village from the northeastern border to the south of the province was destroyed. Sites that had once stood as testaments to the Miyoshi's power and grandeur were now nothing more than black spots upon the landscape.

It was in one of these ruins that Sesshoumaru first came across the burned and tattered crest of the rebellion. The symbol took him by surprise. The crest bore a black sakura flower with a golden heraldry symbol representing "steel lightning" at its center. The image tugged on a memory that Sesshoumaru had buried long ago. Something distant, an event taking place centuries ago when his father was still alive.

Days went by as he struggled to remember this important "something", hours of sitting and brooding over a scrap of cloth with the bloodstained crest sown into it. Sesshoumaru tried to cling to this memory and unearth it from the sticky confines of his subconscious with no success. The failure was as frustrating as it was maddening.

How could he, The Great Sesshoumaru, fail to remember something so important, especially when the information he needed was so critical now? Was there a reason he'd shoved this particular memory so far into the depths of his mind?

He moved on to the next village and the next, but no matter how many times Sesshoumaru saw that accursed crest, he could not recall where he'd encountered it before.

By the end of the third day of what he considered to be an aimless trek through the ruined province, Sesshoumaru's blood was aboil with anger. When he arrived in the city of Amaga and witnessed the charred and dark remains of what used to be the abode of one of the West's highest ranking demon vassals, that anger spiked. The beast within his breast stirred to life, crying out for vengeance.

Not for a servant's life, but for Sesshoumaru's pride, which continued to thrash and flail in the darkness as the Relegation's disregard for it carved bloody scars into its core. How _dare_ a human attack demon nobility? How _dare_ a human think so highly of himself that he would threaten the lifestyle of those far above him in worth and station?

Letting out a silent huff of irritation, Sesshoumaru glanced behind him, where the cursed child who was _still_ following him was looking at something with great interest. He cursed. Another element that he held no control over. Damn her!

How Sesshoumaru wished to take his anger out on her. How he wished he could stomp out at least this particular aggravation out of his life. Still, her spell stayed strong. When he looked at her, the beast inside him receded. The anger that stirred up a maelstrom in his thoughts was soothed, and rational thought gained strength and purchase within the pandemonium.

Truth be told, he preferred this peace to the calamity. In the calm, he could think clearly. In dispassion, he could reason. He feared to admit that this child anchored him somehow. To what, he couldn't say, but he wasn't sure he could accept it without a fight.

Thoughts still stormy and demeanor dark and brooding, Sesshoumaru heard the object of his thoughts grunt and wheeze with effort as she set her sights on the wreckage. She pushed away pieces of wooden beams, broken furniture, and shattered glass as though searching for something. He thought she might hurt herself, but the threat didn't deter her.

It took time, but from a great mass of smoking debris, she pulled out what looked like a small half burned frame that held a painting. She stood still for a moment, examining it with a furrowed brow before walking over to Sesshoumaru and holding it up to face him. For his inspection, he supposed, though understanding why was beyond his abilities as always.

He raised a brow, noting her soot covered hands and elbows. He hadn't really thought about her or looked at her for days as his restlessness to catch up with the Relegation grew. The more destruction he saw, the more focused he became until his determination to end this threat to his lands had drowned out everything. Three days had passed since Susumu's report. Since entering Settsu, his pace had been rigorous, if not grueling, yet the child had somehow kept up. None of her exhaustion showed on her face, though the evidence of it was all too obvious on her body. Still, when she looked up at him, he saw no resentment - no anger, no blame, no concern for her own safety.

"Ocean," she said, pointing to the worn image of waves on the half burned canvas as though nothing was wrong. Her cheekbones were more prominent now, her skin pale and grey. Dark rings circled her eyes, and her lips were chapped with thirst. He turned away from her, the sight of her wasting away somehow distasteful. She followed the angle of his gaze, shuffling along in a half circle to stay in his line of sight.

"Sesshoumaru," she called insistently. "Ocean." She did the same thing two more times before he nearly gave into the urge to fly up into the clouds and leave her behind. Suddenly, though, something clicked. He wasn't sure what it was - the picture of the roiling waves of the sea in the painting or the color of her blue eyes - but the memory he'd been trying to pry out of his stubborn recollections manifested before him in a brilliant flash.

**_If we don't quell this threat now_ ** **_…_ **

His father's voice floated to him on the wind, entering his mind like cold breath that sent his senses reeling.

**_If we don't quell this monster now, more than just our lands will be threatened._ **

More flashes. The golden crest. Different, yet similar. The sakura flower was absent, but the main symbol for "steel lightning" was there, blazing against a backdrop of fire. His father's face was calm, yet his aura pulsed with barely restrained fury. A burning palace in the distance. A torn banner flapping in a violent wind bearing the ancient crest of an old and powerful demon family. Rootftops with broken shingles. A decimated city marketplace around him.

Dimly, Sesshoumaru recognized the place as Osaka. Back then, it had been the largest city in the region, fought over by both demons and humans alike for influence and power.

He snapped out of his semi-trance when he felt a tugging on his robes. Looking down, he met the child's eyes.

"Ocean," she repeated.

 _That's right_ \- he thought. _Osaka is by the ocean._

The moment he made the connection, the child's expression shifted. As though she knew exactly what was in his thoughts, she smiled. Sesshoumaru stood stock still, each beat of his heart a heavy hammer that struck painful vibrations through his rib cage. She'd known, this girl. She'd known _exactly_ what he was looking for.

But, how? He hadn't said a word to her nor shown any sign of what he'd needed to remember. How could she have possibly _guessed_ such a thing? With great effort, he reigned in his shock.

No. Of course it was impossible. This was a _coincidence_ , and that was all.

Sesshoumaru began to walk away when something stopped him. Invisible hands held him back, doubt - and perhaps curiosity - stronger than pride this time. He glanced back at the child, always there, always following him, always calling his name; almost as though she lived for him.

A servant, perhaps. A loyal one. And not just a mere worm to order around, but a creature with powers that could help him with the task at hand. He could use her, for now, and when the time came, he could leave her behind just as easily.

The thought of what he was about to do sent shudders of disgust down his spine, but he did his best to suppress the black emotions swirling in his chest as he stepped towards the girl and wrapped his furry mane around her tiny form. She looked surprised at first, but not afraid. As the fur wrapped around her body, she ran her fingers through it.

"Sesshoumaru," she murmured, brushing her cheek against the brown softness. When he lifted her into the air, their eyes met. As before, waves of purity washed over him. Not threatening or painful, but soothing and quieting, meeting his animosity with gentle resistance. He cursed those eyes - huge and full of knowledge that should not have belonged to a child.

She pointed to her chest and said, "Sesshoumaru hate". Despite the dark observation, her mouth softened into a smile again. "But, Sesshoumaru kind."

The words were powerful enough to pierce even his impervious armor. Again, he found himself thinking that this creature couldn't possibly be human. Humans allowed emotion to rule all they did. If someone slighted or insulted them, they nurtured animus. If someone was cruel to them, they nurtured contempt. If someone showed little to no interest in them or their needs, they went their separate ways. This child defied that every rule.

 _What am I doing?_ \- he thought as he lifted the child and pressed her against his side. _What the hell am I doing?_ \- he asked himself again as he watched her nuzzle into the warmth of his mane and close her eyes in exhausted sleep.

Trust - untainted and unspoiled - for a demon who threatened her and bore her little but antipathy. In the curve of those long lashes and the graceful dip of her cheek, Sesshoumaru couldn't help but see the priestess illuminated by moonlight. He saw her ivory skin; saw the eyes that could have been portals to another world, a place he longed to find yet couldn't hope to understand. He saw the mystery that was Kagome, and found himself wondering if he would ever see her again.

 _This child is a tool_ \- his rationale insisted. Sesshoumaru clenched his teeth and gazed towards the horizon, to the south where Osaka and possibly more answers awaited him. If he thought further on his actions and intentions, he would regret them all and leave the child behind. Since that could jeopardize his mission, he tightened his hold on her and took to the sky.

The trip did not last long - half a day at most. By the time they reached the borders of the city, the sun was preparing to set. Sesshoumaru passed by the front gates, heading straight for a separate entrance used by demon nobility to move in and out of Osaka without commotion. Although humans knew and accepted the existence of demons, it was only the echelons of nobility that knew of their entrenchment in politics and matters involving the governing of the land. To his surprise, Susumu greeted him there. Sesshoumaru wasn't pleased to see the kitsune again, but when Jaken ran out to greet him next, he was somewhat appeased.

"My Lord!" the kappa croaked in joy, his cheeks filling with color and his eyes glistening with tears. He dropped to the ground, prostrating himself - expensive clothes and all - in the dirt. "My Lord, I am so relieved to see you here! So much has happened! So much!"

"You will explain everything you know," Sesshoumaru commanded.

"Of course, My Lord!" It took time for the kappa to gather himself. He stood and dusted off his clothes then straightened his back and the Staff of Two Heads in his webbed hand. "Susumu told me that he'd reported everything to you a few days ago, but we were hoping to see you much sooner. We didn't know where you might go, and didn't know where to look. This one," he glared at the kitsune, "suggested that you might visit Osaka since it is one of the only large towns that hasn't been ransacked by that human filth, Katashi." His face melted into a look of discomfort and distress. "May this lowly one ask why Your Lordship is here?"

"There is information here that could be of use."

Susumu and Jaken waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn't, Jaken bowed again.

"M-My Lord…if I might ask one more question…" he trailed off, and Sesshoumaru noticed him staring at the child that he held against his side. An idea came to him, then.

"Susumu," he called. The kitsune's ears perked up. Unwrapping the child from his hold, Sesshoumaru tossed her unconscious form in Susumu's direction. The demon caught her by instinct and was about to drop her with a horrified look on his face when Sesshoumaru stopped him cold - "See that she is fed, bathed, and dressed. She is not to be harmed. You will bring her out when it is done."

"What?" The kitsune looked shell-shocked, his jaw slack and his narrow violet eyes wide. The fur on his tails stood on end, and his skin crawled with goosebumps. His hands shook; he looked torn between dropping her and obeying his lord's command. "B-But…" he sputtered.

"Of course, My Lord!" Jaken cut in. He waddled over to the kitsune and bashed him in the side with his staff. "Get moving," he hissed. The two disappeared past the ornate gates into the shadows. Sesshoumaru followed, using the discrete entrance to enter the higher levels of the city inaccessible to humans. He passed by several teahouses famed for their geiko of incomparable beauty and traveled to a building where Osaka's records were kept. Tomes upon tomes lined the walls of this hall, and the glass ceiling reached so high that it gave an illusion of an open sky. Wasting no time, Sesshoumaru began to sift through records of the city's history as was written from the perspective of his kind.

**_If we don't quell this monster now, my son_ ** **_…_ **

Sesshoumaru barely recalled it, but his father had said that to him over three centuries ago. It was in the days when they still traveled together on occasion. The powerful InuTaisho had, in those times, been convinced that his son would take over his role without protest. Back then, Sesshoumaru might have done so with pride. Once, he'd respected his father more than anything. His power was immense; his will unbreakable. Together, they'd lain waste to armies of humans and demons, ruling the West with iron claws and unshakable resolve.

_Until that woman came_ _…_

But Sesshoumaru didn't want to think on that now. What mattered in this moment was the human Katashi and the Relegation. What connection did they have with the symbol of steel lightning? And Osaka. What role did this city play in all of this?

After spending several hours searching for answers in tomes and scrolls, Sesshoumaru found nothing. His mind in black disquietude, he left the building feeling as though he'd taken two steps backwards after taking a step forward. He was so agitated that he almost failed to smell the presence of the girl until she was right in front of him.

The building he'd come out of was connected to another by a rope bridge, one in a series of many that tethered a string of buildings together hidden behind a barrier that human eyes could not see. These buildings displayed the same architectural elements as the rest of the city, but they were cleaner, almost as though time did not touch them.

When Sesshoumaru walked out onto the bridge, he saw the girl running towards him. The dirt and filth was gone from her face. Her hair trailed behind her like a dark banner in the wind. Some color had returned to her cheeks, complimenting the white yukata and black hakama pants she'd been given to wear. Her feet were wrapped in sturdy sandals suitable for travel, though the skin there was wrapped with heavy bandaging.

The change was drastic, but Sesshoumaru couldn't say he wasn't pleased to see it. Jaken had done his job, though Sesshoumaru imagined the kappa was bursting to know why he had been ordered to perform it.

"Sesshoumaru!" the girl called in that sweet airy voice, and the moment that he looked into those vast sapphire eyes, all his anxiousness vanished. She pointed towards the edge of the city, where the human-built harbor housed an entire fleet of merchant ships of every size and shape. Men unloaded large crates and barrels full of goods and spices. Seagulls cried of their greed and hunger to the fishermen below as waves gently lapped against the pale sandy shore.

"Ocean pretty," the girl said, a wistful tone in her words. As he watched the dark horizon, the clamor of the seagulls and groaning of docked ships faded.

**_Why should we not claim that power, father? It is wasted on human filth._ **

In his mind, a powerful voice rumbled beside him in response, full of strength and experience.

**_Sesshoumaru_ ** **_…To use that power is to be cursed. That is the only fate of the one who wields it. It must be broken. It must be destroyed along with the one who has sacrificed himself to bear it._ **

Sesshoumaru's breath caught in his throat. It was as though he'd returned to that day.

Memories floated up from the depths of his mind, debris from a ship that time had wrecked upon the rocky shallows of his ruefulness and disappointment. He and his father had been here, in Osaka, observing the humans blundering through their ignorant lives as one might observe the crawling of ants upon a dung hill. They'd been discussing a situation similar to this one, only in that century, there was no Relegation.

Sesshoumaru could not recall the name of the armies that sought to wipe out all rule in the country, but he did remember that, just as now, there was a single man who led them. After listening to InuTaisho's reply to his question, Sesshoumaru had been disappointed in his father for what he perceived as weakness.

A power had lain before them, ripe for the taking. Yet the mighty InuTaisho had chosen to destroy it rather than take hold of it. He'd asked Sesshoumaru to fight beside him, but his son had had no desire to go against his personal ambitions and beliefs. It was the first time they'd disagreed on anything - the first crack in their bond. Less than a week after that conversation, Osaka was razed to the ground by the one who wielded this strange power.

Suddenly, the picture of the peaceful harbor turned into a vivid painting of people running for their lives. Sesshoumaru saw fire annihilating homes of stone and earth. Ships sank, burning, into the water, fire spreading to the harbor and laying waste to the vulnerable wood. In the center of the chaos stood a massive stone, unnaturally smooth on one face.

How had he not noticed it before? Carved upon it were symbols in a language he did not recognize. A man dressed in heavy armor was there, kneeling beside it, his hands raised in supplication. In his fists, he held an enormous halberd, the veins on his arms bulging and glowing a vile emerald. As the man reached out to touch the stone, Sesshoumaru heard his father's mighty roar.

That sound echoed in his ears even as Sesshoumaru felt the now too familiar tugging on his clothes pulling back into the present.

"Sesshoumaru," the child whispered. He scowled down at her innocent face, still trapped in the whirlwind of his memories. "Stone," she pressed, making a shape in the air. "Find stone." Sesshoumaru clenched his fists at his sides and knelt beside her.

"Was that you?" he asked quietly, the hum of his voice sharp enough to cut through steel. "Are _you_ responsible for that vision?"

The girl tilted her head to the side, her large eyes so intense that he couldn't look away. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, the deep-throated bellow of a warhorn ripped through the silence between them. Sesshoumaru stood and looked down to the city below where people were gathering in mass in the center of the marketplace.

"My Lord!" The door to the adjacent building burst open. Jaken soared through it with bizarre agility, his green skin as grey as stone. Susumu followed on his heels, looking far less panicked. Sesshoumaru didn't miss the distrusting and disgusted look he gave the child beside him.

"My Lord, there has been news!" Jaken gestured a webbed hand towards the town below.

A man dressed in the royal purple and gold robes of an official accompanied by a large group of samurai in full armor rode through the crowd on a muscled war stallions, kicking up a cloud of brown dust. Heedless of his surroundings, he showed no sign of caring whether the men and women in his way managed to scramble out of the street in time to avoid being trampled. Upon reaching the center of the marketplace, he dismounted and, with a flourish that could only be attributed to man who saw himself above others, he stepped up onto a rickety wooden crier's platform and unfurled a large scroll.

"We bring grave news from the front," he said in a booming voice. "Lord Miyoshi Nagayoshi, our respected and esteemed daimyo, has been assassinated during his attempted escape to our allies in Harima province."

The crowd gasped. Some women whimpered in fear. Other men gave cries of outrage.

"Our scouts report that the Relegation has set its sights upon the capital of Hineji as their next target. Lord Miyoshi's son, Lord Kazunari, has sent out a call to arms to avenge his father and to prevent further destruction and murder. Every man able to wield a sword must join with us and ride swiftly to the capital in Harima to defend it from the Relegation's advance!"

At this command, mayhem broke out. Some rushed to volunteer while others tried to run. Those who attempted to escape were immediately cut down or shot by the samurai wielding bows and arrows. They did not even dismount from their horses to do so.

This development pleased Sesshoumaru. Whatever good or ill this man's announcement brought to the citizens of Osaka was not his problem, but he _had_ just revealed the Relegation's course. His destination was set, then, and having a new step in his plan was more comforting and reassuring than anything.

"My Lord," Susumu began, his voice low and subservient. "I assume that you will wish to leave right away."

Sesshoumaru nodded.

"And…the child? What is to be done with it in your absence?"

Both the kitsune and the kappa couldn't hide their hostility towards the girl, Susumu more than the latter.

"Fox!" the girl cried out as though she'd just now noticed his presence. Sesshoumaru folded his arms across his chest. How anyone could be so oblivious of their surroundings baffled him. The girl lunged for one of Susumu's swishing tails, and judging by the kitsune's look of horror and dread, this was not the first time she'd displayed such an inclination.

"Don't touch me," Susumu hissed. Ignoring his command - or was it a plea for mercy? - the girl bounced upwards, her arms spread wide and a look of pure bliss on her face in anticipation of capturing one of the kitsune's furry appendages. Sesshoumaru used his mane to catch her in mid-air, squeezing her tightly in an attempt to earn her obedience with a display of strength. She winced and cried out in pain, a sound that instantly turned into an enraptured giggle.

"This child knows something of all this," Sesshoumaru said, doing his best to ignore the girl's outrageous behavior. "She will be coming."

"There has been word from the Lord of the North," Jaken revealed. "What shall I tell his emissaries while My Lordship is gone?"

"Tell them not to interfere. If they get in the way of This Sesshoumaru's hunt, they will not be shown clemency, alliance or not." Both the kappa and kitsune bowed to their master before making a hasty departure. Sesshoumaru tucked his mane - and the girl with it - against his side. He glowered down at her, but as always, no matter what he did, she was not intimidated in the least.

"Sesshoumaru," she smiled. "Sesshoumaru want find stone."

"What do you know of it?" In response, she wriggled her arms free of his hold and made a spherical shape in the air with her hands.

"Stone," she said, then pointed at herself. "Stone…here…" Her hands rested over her heart.

"You can sense its presence," he guessed. She nodded vigorously.

 _And if Katashi is looking for the stone, then I will find him there -_ Sesshoumaru thought with more than a small dose of anticipation. _I will not stop until I smear his corpse into the ground. Father once sought to destroy the artifact he seeks. Perhaps he even feared it being misused, but I - as the son that has surpassed him in every way - fear nothing._

With those thoughts in mind, Sesshoumaru left the turmoiled city of Osaka behind, his eyes looking forward towards righteous vengeance.


	5. Chapter 4

 

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**Limerance**

Chapter 4

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_This place is cursed -_ Sesshoumaru silently declared as he flew through the clouds. _What has happened to these lands? **How** could it have happened?_

Harima, a province of illimitable farmland, mystery, and strict religious ceremony welcomed their arrival with a repugnant mephitis of rot and sickness that made Sesshoumaru's keen senses wither in disgust.

At first, Sesshoumaru assumed that they'd arrived here ahead of the encroaching war. But, eventually, he realized that even war had abandoned this place. The Relegation hadn't had neither the time nor the inclination to do much damage here. Unlike Settsu, Harima's villages were intact, its roads free of interference, and its people not bound by orders to join the fight for any clan. Instead, death walked the land disguised as a plague, visiting village after village, preying on the strong and weak alike.

The entire province was in mourning. Funerals and mass burnings were held everywhere he looked. Hundreds - perhaps thousands - had fallen victim to an illness that the humans called "the affliction of the Continent", for many believed that merchants and traders had brought it with them over the sea.

Sesshoumaru would have paid these matters little heed if the malady wasn't tearing through his lands with unnatural and alarming speed. Should trade and farming be disrupted any further, his estates and those of his vassals would be threatened. His power as a sovereign would be placed in jeopardy. His role as the natural and rightful overlord might be put in question. As the ruler of the West, he had a duty to protect his lands from all major threats, mortal or immortal both.

There was little Sesshoumaru could do now, however, but look on helplessly as those beneath that mantle of responsibility were thrown farther and farther into ferment. Doctors were few and far between. Those from the Continent were valued and even rarer. They might have known how to treat this plague, but Susumu and Jaken's reports suggested that almost all had fled the country in fear for their own lives. Those that remained and those that practiced only eastern medicine were dwindling, succumbing to the infection even as they tried to stop it.

Inwardly, Sesshoumaru railed at whatever force propelled and turned the tides of fate. Demons did not believe in the Shinto fables and their exaggerated legends. Sesshoumaru knew that if there was a god that ruled this land, it was him and him alone. So why was it that everything was crumbling before him? Give him enemies that he could fight, and he would lay waste to them. He lived for the thrill of crushing those who opposed him. But an enemy that prowled the shadows? An enemy that was invisible? The sort of opponent that slipped through cracks in walls and hid from sight while causing devastation reminded him too much of the blight that was Naraku.

 _Never again_ , he'd vowed. _Never again will such a calamity be allowed to walk this earth._ At least, not while he lived and stood before it. This entire situation was all too familiar. Naraku had begun as nothing more than a minor problem, too. Much like the Relegation. Much like the rift that grew each day between the Lords of the South, North, and East. Something which had begun as a nuisance of a rebellion had now escalated into a war on two fronts - one in the form of the warrior Katashi and one that devoured humanity in the merciless jaws of pale death. How could he fight this? Where was the solution that would return things to the way they were? The answer eluded him, and worse yet, another part of him asked something worse:

Would his _father_ have known? Would his _father_ have been able to deal with this crisis in a better way than he? He despised the voice that whispered such blasphemous questions and looked to the Bakusaiga at his waist. Strong. Unbreakable. Proof that he was superior. Proof that he needed no guidance from anyone, especially his sire.

**_If we don't quell this monster now_ ** **_…_ **

His father's warning echoed through time, more meaningful now that Sesshoumaru had seen the consequences for himself. His very core _burned_ with a lust for blood that rivaled anything he'd felt in years. All who were beside him felt it. Jaken trembled in his presence alone, and Susumu only spoke as much as was required before disappearing from his sight as soon as his business was complete. The child Sesshoumaru allowed to travel with him especially sensed his rage. In her own broken way of speaking, she'd told him so. Each day, a new battle awaited him as he resisted the urge to give into the desires of the monster in his soul - to change into his true form and to claw the land apart in search of his quarry.

Or perhaps the solution was to burn everything - to destroy _everything_ and _everyone_ as a farmer might burn his fields to ready the soil for a better harvest. The option was logical, but he had to consider the consequences. Was it worth the time that would be lost to rebuild trade, economy, and relations with other lands and provinces? The likely answer was negative. The idea haunted him, however. As did many other options that involved spilling mass amounts of blood. His only salvation was the strange and previously unwelcome reprieve that the girl's aura offered from encroaching madness.

Susumu and Jaken continued their rigorous investigation, sending spies into villages and even into the capital to seek new information on the Relegation's whereabouts. Susumu had even arranged for instigators to start minor conflicts in these places in an attempt to lure out Relegation agents. The plan succeeded only in raising more questions. The agents that could be captured were moles planted in the ranks of human officials, but their true purpose was unclear. Even after being subjected to Susumu's specialized techniques of torture, all their broken minds could reveal was that Katashi was seeking the mysterious stone from Sesshoumaru's memories just as desperately as they were.

The general had ordered warriors he'd recruited from the dying clans of Izumo to ransack shrines all across the countryside in a frantic search, too fearful of the spreading epidemic to lead his armies into the area himself. Sesshoumaru knew, then, that if this stone was so important to his enemy, he _had_ to find it first. Though his traveling companion insisted she could feel the presence of this artifact, their quest for it had not been as successful as Sesshoumaru had hoped. Nor was it quick. The Affliction slowed them down in a way that none of them could have anticipated.

It was on a rather bleak and rainy day that Sesshoumaru began to suspect his quest was doomed to failure. He and the child had stopped by the home of one of Sesshoumaru's lower ranking vassals to seek out new information about the province. The owner of the estate was a demon named Teron. His family had served the West for generations, but their lack of ambition had prevented them from rising higher in the ranks. When they landed, a servant relayed the message that the Lord of the house was absent but that Sesshoumaru was welcome to stay as long as needed. He refused that offer, preferring to move on rather than waste time doing nothing. He turned to leave, but the girl remained behind.

"Come," he called. She refused, looking off into the distance almost as though she couldn't hear him. It was the first time the girl behaved this way around him. Typically, she hung on his every word and action, ready to leave at a moment's notice. He glanced towards the horizon but could find nothing worthy of such rapt attention.

"Come," he said again. He wondered if he should call her by name, but somehow every time he tried, he clenched his teeth and suppressed the urge. After all, he did not yet know if this girl truly was the priestess.

Irritated with her lack of response, he turned and began to leave without her when he heard the distinct sound of a human body hitting the ground. He whirled around to see that the child had fallen. Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged. Kneeling beside her, he hesitantly touched her forehead, surprised when he felt how hot it was.

This was the beginning of the end.

Over the next few days, her condition continued to get worse. She coughed and shivered with fever, her throat too swollen to eat or drink more than what was enough to sustain her. Sesshoumaru hadn't known what to think of this development at first. At the onset of her symptoms, he hoped that it was just a passing malady - one of those minor illnesses that humans caught now and again. Yet with each day, the girl grew weaker until she could no longer walk on her own. Paralysis, a wracking cough, a high fever that caused its victims to hallucinate - these were all signs of the Affliction. Few survived more than two weeks after these symptoms manifested.

"Finally, the little monster is going to die," Susumu said one evening when the child's fever was particularly crippling. They'd taken shelter from a storm in one of Susumu's clan outposts. The kitsune stood at her bedside while Sesshoumaru and Jaken discussed new reports and developments in the capital.

"Did you hear that, human?" the kitsune growled at her. "You're going to die here."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sesshoumaru watched them both. Susumu knew the child was, for the time being, under Sesshoumaru's protection. He wouldn't harm her. But the demon was still wary of him.

"Will die," the girl rasped and coughed. "But before…promise...help Sesshoumaru…"

"You're old enough to speak properly, so why don't you? Or are you too stupid?" Susumu bit out with a sneer and crossed his arms over his chest. The child stirred and wrestled a hand out from under the blankets. Her small fingers grasped at the hem of Susumu's gold trimmed white haori.

"If die…fox not be sad anymore?" The room went silent. Susumu looked confused. "Fox sad…hurt inside…" she frowned, her eyes glassy and unfocused as she looked towards a ragged bit of emerald cloth wrapped around one of the kitsune's arms. "Not want fox to be sad."

"Ridiculous," Susumu spat, wrenching her hand from his clothes and stepping away. "Just die in your sleep already," he finished with a grumble that, to Sesshoumaru's interest, lacked its usual hostility.

The next day, her fever broke, and Sesshoumaru made use of the opportunity to continue their search. Despite her obvious pain and suffering, the girl did not complain. Not once did she give any hint of abandoning their quest. If anything, the mark of doom upon her only seemed to strengthen her resolve. With curt gestures and choppy sentences, she pressed him to keep moving, leading them up a mountain to a prominent Shinto shrine dedicated to the god Amaterasu.

"Stone there," she insisted. "Sesshoumaru find."

Beside her, the demon stewed in his own silent strife. He wanted to abandon her, for the sweat on her clothes and her wet coughing made his skin crawl with disgust. He could _smell_ death on her, and the scent of it repulsed him. As a demon, he was immune to such diseases, but humans brought such filth and corruption with them everywhere they went. This was just another reason to avoid them altogether.

Seeing how the girl persevered with quiet strength and wondering if and when the disease would cut her fragile thread of life tormented him with emotions he couldn't name. Through each weak beat of the wings of her fluttering heart, he heard her dying, and the thought of losing such a valuable tool…the thought of the silence that would once more fill his life…the thought of seeing her lying still and unmoving in the dirt…

No. He didn't wish to dwell on it. He blamed his alien frustration on the many problems that had gone from bad to worse in the course of just a few short weeks in his lands. That was all it was. There could be no other reason. He just hoped that her body would last until they could locate the artifact. After that, she was free to live or die as fate decided.

Roughly one week after Sesshoumaru had first noted her illness, the child collapsed completely. Whatever had been holding back her ability to speak peeled away like a curtain. In a feverish delirium, she mumbled things he didn't understand - words or gibberish, he could not say. But it was in this state that she finally found what they were looking for.

Using what words he could make out as clues, Sesshoumaru followed a hidden path up the mountain - not to the famous shrine of Amaterasu, but to an abandoned temple devoted to Tsukuyomi, the god whom, by human legend, governed the moon. The shrine was ancient and decrepit, standing as an aged monument to the fickle nature of human belief.

Not a single sign of life remained save for the vines and nettles that had snaked up and around the walls and pillars. The wood of these walls was rotten to the core, the cobblestone of the courtyard cracked and covered in mold and moss. It was in this ruined and deserted courtyard that Sesshoumaru _finally_ found what they'd been seeking.

Standing separate from everything else, seemingly untouched by anything natural or man made, was the artifact from his memories. Whatever he'd expected to find, it wasn't this. Sesshoumaru's gaze swept over its colossal surface, and he marveled at how something could be created on this scale. The craftsmanship was unparalleled. Even among his kind, he'd never seen anything of the like.

The artifact's three faces were entirely smooth, the shining surfaces marked only with foreign symbols and vivid pictures of immense battles between creatures whose size rivaled the world itself. Their massive feet used entire mountain ranges as support while they bared their teeth and vied for dominance. Each swing of their sword stirred a hurricane to life, each stomp raising up a tsunami in the oceans.

Even Sesshoumaru, who considered himself above all in this land, was momentarily humbled by this structure, its enormity, and all the possible implications of the markings drawn upon it. He tried to imagine what force could have shaped a construct like this - something so large that its shadow dwarfed the entire temple.

What magic could have cleaved this from the earth? What hands could have carved such intricate and precise markings into hardened stone? What patience had even allowed such a task? And for what purpose? To tell a story? To pass on legends as religion did? If it was so important, why was it abandoned here?

"Sess…maru…" the girl whispered from the folds of his mane. The awe and wonder quickly faded from his thoughts, his focus sharpening on the child at his side.

"Are you awake?" he asked. It was the first time he'd seen her lucid in days. He lifted her up to show he was listening and right away regretted it. This close, all signs of her imminent death were far too striking. She was so very pale. All color had completely faded from her skin. The eyes that typically mesmerized him with their brilliance were dull and lifeless now, the pupils black and so dilated that he could hardly see the color around them. Had he not heard the breath rattling in and out of her lungs, Sesshoumaru would have thought her dead already. Again, the image of her lifeless body lying in the dirt assailed him. Nausea filled his gut.

"Stone…" she reached a trembling hand towards the artifact in the center of the courtyard. Strengthening his hold on her limp form, Sesshoumaru pressed her up against his side as had become habit in the past week. In a single motion, he leaped forward and stood in front of the monument. The child's head lolled against his armor, her heartbeat growing so faint that he could hardly hear it anymore.

"Stone…need…have to…" Despite her weakness and exhaustion, she continued reaching out, attempting to free herself from his hold. Eyes narrowing in confusion, Sesshoumaru allowed it, setting her feet on the ground and loosening his grip.

She stumbled and fell to her knees. Curious as to what she would do, he watched her crawl towards the stone, lending her no further assistance. His breath snagged on a spike of surprise when the markings in the rock began to glow a brilliant violet. The closer she came to them, the brighter they shone. Humming filled the air, vibrations of energy and power that twisted his insides with trepidation. This wasn't just heat or energy. It was _divine_ power - primal and haunting in its purity. The child kept crawling until she was just short of placing her hands on the stone. The glowing intensified; the humming became a dull roar in his ears.

From the core of the monument, Sesshoumaru could hear voices calling out, whispering words that sounded like the gibberish the child had muttered in her fever dreams. Like before, he couldn't understand them. But, the girl _did_. She whispered back in the same alien tongue, her words no longer broken but eloquent and structured.

The voices hissed something that sounded like a question. Sesshoumaru saw the child nod. Scorching wind manifested from an unknown pocket of existence, blowing through the trees and bending their boughs to the point of near breaking. Forcing herself to her feet, the child turned and looked at him. Her mouth moved; she said something, but he couldn't hear it over the howling of the gale. Small orbs of light surrounded her like fireflies, glowing brightly even in the sunlight of mid day. Her lips curved into a smile just before she turned and pressed her mouth against the stone.

_Something is coming_ _…_

His instinct screamed for him to move away - as _far away_ as possible - but Sesshoumaru couldn't have obeyed it even if he'd wanted to. Just like the time when he'd first witnessed her miraculous rebirth from the flames of the Jewel, he was unable to do anything. His body stood still, trapped within the weaves of the fabric of emotion. Torn between self-preservation and dauntless curiosity, he watched with wide golden eyes as the child's body filled with the same violet light that had illuminated the markings on the artifact.

The runes and pictures on the stone came to life, moving and changing, dancing and singing in a silent chorus of what he could only describe as incredible and tangible magic. The battles depicted there began to rage in earnest, great gargantuan creatures fighting each other with spears and swords as hurricanes and earthquakes raged around them. For each one cut down, another one arose, the world beneath them granting them eternal life and immortality. Sesshoumaru could have sworn he could even hear them roaring, their mighty bellows shaking the earth around him and telling a story of creation past all remembrance and knowledge.

For a moment, he thought he saw the shape of a colossal dog demon fighting by their side, but before he could confirm it, a violent explosion of holy light shot outward, so blinding that he had to shut his eyes. Sesshoumaru heard the sounds of splintering wood and shattering rock, felt a mighty force attempting to push him to the ground. He squinted through the radiance. Everything around the stone was being ripped apart and destroyed, crushed and annihilated beneath a relentless whirling momentum. Yet, somehow, this power swirled and curved around him, leaving him unharmed.

At least, at first. Soon, Sesshoumaru's skin began to boil, the energy breaking through his protective aura and purifying his essence. He smelled his own blood. The agony alone would have sent a lesser being to its knees. Even so - even knowing that this might seriously harm him - he stood his ground, unable to look away from the breathtaking sight. The glowing child lifted up into the air, the shining markings peeling from the monument and wrapping around her, branding her skin and flushing her very veins with light.

 _Majestic. Sublime. Bewitching._ He'd never thought to use these words for anything, yet in this case, even they were not enough to encompass the scope of everything he felt. The pain in his body intensified, throbbing chains of agony rending through his awareness until his vision dimmed and darkened. In the last moment before blackness took him into its cold arms, he saw the glowing child step back onto the ground. No; not a child, but a young woman with the same familiar and gentle features as the priestess that he had once known.

"Kagome…" The name was ripped from a place deep inside him, the syllables existing as both a breath of relief and a gasp of wonder. It should have been impossible, but there was no denying that this was her. She was just as naked as she had been in the waterfall that fateful night before the ceremony, but just like before, all he could see was her large expressive eyes.

Had he wanted her to return? Had he wanted to see her again? Up until this very moment, he hadn't been aware of how much he dreaded knowing that she'd truly disappeared forever. He despised himself for such a weakness.

His thoughts grew muddled, then. Deeper and deeper into the darkness he fell, the sight of the young priestess fading. Her mouth moved with silent words; she reached for him, resplendent as her body was bathed in light. He thought he saw something glimmering in the corners of her eyes.

 _Beauty given form_ \- the beast within him purred as the abyss swallowed him whole. _Had We lost it, We would have indeed regretted it for all eternity._


	6. Chapter 5

**Limerance**

Chapter 5

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_The moment Sesshoumaru spied the figure in the water, he knew he was dreaming. For him, dreaming was unusual. The infrequent times when he required rest were filled with void-like tenebrosity and a distinct lack of mental wanderings. If anything, during such times he preferred to still his mind and bring his emotions under strict control to cool the ardor of his demon blood which thirsted at all times for chaos and destruction._ _This was one of the first dreams he'd experienced since early childhood, and the moment he recognized it for what it was, he wished that he could end it._

_A forest surrounded him, familiar in many ways. His brother's forest, still green despite the autumn that approached. Sand shifted beneath his boots, moist and pliant in the sculpting hands of a minor river that began here and snaked all the way through the entire wood. Seeing it was like looking back into the past to the night before the Jewel ceremony - to the night when a single moment had captured his focus so strongly that he would never forget it again. This was no fleeting memory, but it **was** nothing more than that. He was not so addled that he would allow himself to believe this to be real. Still, he gave this memory credit where it was due, and he marveled at the clarity of his remembering._

_Some part of him had carved this night into the endless corners of the maze that was his memories, hiding it in a place so deep and remote that he'd never believed he would allow himself to think of it again. Yet here he was, dwelling on a remnant, claws of pride and rationale working to temper the thrill of seeing **her** standing there in the thick of night. The absence of the sun hid many things, but it could blind him to nothing. He saw through every shadow, peered through the branches, and moved soundlessly until he was close enough that the beating of the falling waters before him echoed in his chest._

_Yet, he saw nothing else - neither the forest, nor the waterfall, nor what color the moon turned the swaying leaves. He chose not to see those things because all that mattered now was seeing **her**._

_Just her and **only** her._

_The priestess stood in the deep end of the river at a cliff face, the water rising up to her waist. She wore a white yukata, but it did nothing to hide her skin, for the river had transformed it into transparent silk. Thick pitch black hair twisted and curled down behind her past the dip in her spine until it trailed like ribbons of black blood in the water. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed against crashing droplets of a roaring stream. One hand was raised; she held her fingers against her throat. How fragile it looked - how vulnerable. It would melt beneath his poison, and come undone beneath his talons._

_The moonlight caressed her skin with long violet fingers, wrapping phantom hands around her slender form. The wind bore her scent to him within its supple arms: rose water, white sage, and a faint smell of tsubaki flowers. A candle stood on the riverbank beside a ceramic bowl filled with fragrant herbs no doubt meant to purify her aura. That night, he'd beloieved he watched her with an impassive and indifferent gaze. How wrong he'd been. A dispassionate observation and a half hearted focus could not have captured this memory with such acute perfection. He could even see the goosebumps on her flesh beneath the fabric of her clothes._

_Sesshoumaru watched the cold water trickle down her throat, swore that he could see her pulse there. That thin graceful neck, those small delicate fingers, and those long black eyelashes beckoned him. That's when he realized that one thing was different from his memory. He no longer remained in the shadows of the forest. He waded in the stream, approaching her without any doubt and without any intention of hiding. The temperature of the river should have been off-putting, but Sesshoumaru was too intent upon his task to bother with such a shallow sensation. Instead, he was mesmerized as – with a small sigh – she opened her eyes. This time, she did not look in some vague and general direction._

_This time, she looked at **him**._

_As before, he felt as though he'd been hit with something sharp in his chest – like a spike of ice driving itself into his heart. He moved even farther forward before he could understand his need to do so. In a blink, he stood in front of her, looking down as she craned her neck to continue staring into his eyes. He didn't touch her, didn't make a single gesture indicating that he wanted to. That thought stopped him in his tracks._

_Wanted to? He **wanted** to? If such was the case, then why **not?**_

_In this dream, there was no one to question his actions. No one stood to witness as he indulged in curiosity. His hand reached up, claws tracing the outline of her jaw. Despite the fact that the creature standing before him now was a woman, all he could see when he looked into her eyes was the child that had emerged from the flames._

_Damn those eyes – evocative and unnatural, they looked deep enough to drown in._

" _Explain this, priestess_ _…" he ground out, uncertain himself if he knew what he was asking. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. Frustrated, he brought up his other hand to close around her neck – a threat this time. Again, her lips moved soundlessly. She looked almost pained. Something small and warm brushed against his claws on her throat. Her hand, he realized._

_Without meaning to, he leaned forward until he felt her breath upon his forehead; small thin fingers brushed against his ears. The foreign sensation caused a shiver to tighten the muscles in his body. Like this, her eyes seemed even bigger. The color took over all of his vision, surrounding him like the sky in flight._

" _Are you the one borne from the flames of the Jewel? Are you the child who touched the stone?" he asked._

_More silence in reply._

_" **Are** you?"_

_She took a deep breath, then -_

" _You cannot hear the answer," she murmured, regret diluting the softness of her tone. "Some of your own words are disappearing, too."_

_There was no mistaking it. Though the voice was older, it belonged to the child who'd been traveling with him for several weeks._

_"It would seem," she continued, "that there are some things that neither one of us is ready to hear or say just yet." The woman tilted her head a little to the side, a gesture that he, too, recognized as the child's mannerism. He loosened his grip on her neck. "I wish to tell you everything, but the time has not yet come. What are you doing in this place? How is it that you've come to be here?"_

" _This is a dream, woman," he replied. "A dream that does not belong to you."_

" _I see. You wish for me to leave, then?" When he said nothing, she frowned. "This is **not** a dream. Even now, in this very moment, your life is in great danger."_

" _What nonsense," he sneered. "Such a thing is impossible."_

" _You stood by as the stone was activated. In its light, your essence was nearly destroyed."_

_She must have realized that he didn't believe this claim, for her frown deepened._

_"I will ask again. What are you doing here?"_

" _You do not speak as the priestess once did," he pointed out, ignoring her questions. Indeed, her speech was far too formal._

" _I am not the priestess Kagome," she revealed at length. "I was_ _…_ ** _once_** _…but now, I am just a fragment - a piece that is lost and useless without the whole." Her eyes tore away from his, focusing on something in the distance, and for a moment, the purity around her flickered, giving way to a darkness so profound and bottomless that it gave even_ ** _him_** _pause. Something slithered behind that azure gaze - something spiritless; broken._

" _A fragment," he echoed, his interest piqued._

" _You must not stay here," she cut in, still avoiding his gaze. "Whatever holds you to this moment, you must release it."_

" _Again, you speak nonsense and riddles. Nothing holds me to this moment, for nothing could ever hold me anywhere against my will." He raised his chin, irritated that she would question that undeniable fact._

" _Then it is **your will** to remain here," she answered without hesitation. "But no matter what you wish, you cannot stay."_

_He looked around once again, seeing nothing more than an ordinary forest. He noted the odd sensations in himself. His body felt too light, his mind covered in a thin fog._

" _What is the stone?" he asked her. "And if this is not a dream, then what is it?"_

_He gritted his teeth when her lips moved soundlessly again. Then, as though a barrier was broken -_

"… _must survive. No matter what comes now, your strength will be invaluable to save the land from a bleak and unbalanced future."_

_He raised a brow at that._

_The priestess' harsh expression dissolved into one of sadness. "You can only hear what you want to hear. If you heard the last of my words, then it is because you believe in your own power and nothing else."_

" _What else is there to believe in?" Sesshoumaru demanded._

_Her lament grew, lines appearing at the corners of her eyes and lips dipping downwards._

" _Whatever your reasons were, you risked your life to come here. For that, I will tell you one thing of the future. Use it as you will, or do not. We will likely not meet again for a very long time."_

 _Sesshoumaru shifted his weight between his feet._ " _Speak, then."_

" _May I?" She lifted her hands and left them hovering just above the stripes on his face. He gave no consent, but she stole it anyway. Her palms cupped his face, barely touching enough to elicit a tingle on his skin._

" _There will come a day," her blue eyes clouded over, "when you harbor a single and most dire wish. To grant it, you will have to make a terrible choice, one that you may come to later regret. That which you cherish without cherishing, that which you love without loving, and that which you protect without protecting will be placed in the greatest of perils. On that day, Lord of the West, you must choose to let it go. You must choose to abandon your wish. If you do not_ _…" she trailed off. There was that darkness again, writhing just beneath the color of her eyes, reaching down so deep that he wondered how it did not consume her soul._

" _I must do nothing," he answered._

" _Certainly, for you are a great and powerful demon - one who has surpassed even his father who was legend. You will likely not believe a single thing I say. However, it is my duty and," she pressed a hand to her heart, "it is my own desire to try and pass this warning to you anyway. After all, a part of me already_ _…" again, she left the sentence hanging. He didn't press her to continue, feeling no particular inclination to listen to her rambling about some obscure event that may or may not pass._

" _What is this place, woman? You never answered."_

_She gestured to the forest all around them. "This is a place not bound to time - a realm that transcends it, much like the Bone Eater's Well that Kagome once used to visit this era in order to destroy the Jewel of Four Souls. When the stone was activated, you were thrown into this prison. I can guide you out, but first_ _…" She looked uncertain. "But first, you must -"_

" _I must do **nothing** ," he repeated, more strongly this time._

" _Then_ _…would you tell me why you came back to this moment?" Her gaze sharpened. "Do you even know? In order to be free, you need to let go of the desire that has trapped you here." He said nothing else to answer such an allegation, simply turned to walk away from her. But in the last moment before he completely moved away, she grabbed at his sleeve._

" _I think I know_ _…" Water splashed around her as she moved in a circle to stand in front of him again. "I think I know," she said more softly. "Do what is it that your mind wishes, and you shall be free."_

_Those words might as well have been a slap in the face._

" _What could a mortal know of my desires?" he bit out. "What could a mere **fragment** know?" he asked, deliberately cruel. Even as she recoiled from the lash of those words, he wove his fingers into the hair at her nape and held her still. A deep red color flushed her cheeks. Her chest moved rapidly from swift and nervous breaths. Beneath her ribs, he could hear the flitting of her heart - soft and feathery like the wings of a dove._

_"Hn," he sneered. "You think highly of yourself, priestess, to believe that it is **you** that has lingered in my memory."_

" _It was **you** who called me from the flames," she challenged. "When I was nothing and existed nowhere, it was **this** memory and many others that allowed me to be reborn." He absorbed that accusation with silence and reluctance. Him? He was the cause of the child's existence? If so_ _…If_ ** _so_** _, then_ _…_

**Does she not belong to Us? -** _a repellent voice within him questioned. He shoved it far away into the back of his subconscious where it belonged._

" _What is it that you wish for?" the priestess asked again._

**I could crush her in my hands right now and end all this.**

_He tightened his grip, but then a thought occurred to him._

" _A fragment, you said. Does that mean that there are others? Other pieces? Other stones?" Her mouth moved silently again. His claws itched to spill her blood, then, phantom or not, but the unexpected sound of splashing behind him stopped him._

" _It seems that you were fortunate this time," the priestess said. He turned and saw a child wading through the water towards him. It was the same girl that he'd been traveling with, but she was somewhat older now - taller, shaped more like a young woman than a little girl. She struggled to wade through the stream; the current was strong and nearly overpowered her more than once. Yet she persevered, fighting to make it to where he stood and finally clinging to the ridge of his armor._

**She can reach it now _-_** _he noted._

_"You, too, do not belong here," the older priestess told the girl, displeased._

" _You're wrong," the young girl answered. "I_ _'m here to take him back. Let him go." He'd never seen her face so serious, her eyes filled with such burning righteousness._

" _Not until he makes a wish," the priestess insisted. Ignoring her words, the young girl placed a cold hand upon his arm._

" _Let her go_ _…please," she begged him, gesturing to the older priestess. "She's darkness. She can't give you what you're looking for."_

" _Then you know about the stones?" he challenged, noting that this version of the priestess spoke more like the Kagome he remembered._

" _If you come with me, I can answer your questions," she nodded. "For now, let me get you out of here." She tugged on his arm, wordlessly beckoning him to bend down towards her as she stood on her tiptoes. Her eyes consumed his vision once more, and this time, he saw no darkness behind them. Only light. Only purity and innocence._

_The hand holding the older priestess relaxed and let go. He heard her fall into the water while the girl before him reached ever higher - past his chin, past his lips, past his cheekbones and his eyes - until her mouth pressed against the crescent moon upon his forehead._

" ** _You fool_** _," a voice echoed around them. " **You would sacrifice yourself for a demon?"**_

_The girl didn't answer. After a moment, she lowered back down to a more stable stance, her hands resting upon both his arms. When had he reached out to stabilize her? The fog over his mind thickened, the sight of her blurring and beginning to fade._

" _I_ _'m sorry I can't go with you," she apologized with a bitter smile, "but I promise that one day, I will. For now, please go back to where you belong…_

… _Sesshoumaru."_

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He woke up alone.

First, he rested his hand upon the hilt of his sword and examined his surroundings, ready to fight attackers at a moment's notice. When he realized he was still in the same place that he recalled before the dream, he relaxed somewhat and peered around. Sesshoumaru saw the familiar broken courtyard, the rotting temple, and at last - the stone.

The construct which had once stood proudly had been shattered, a great misshapen crack rending it down the middle. All of the markings had disappeared from it along with all the power and magic it once held. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a regular and broken boulder, as lifeless and silent as the ages that had passed it by.

The girl was nowhere to be seen. He could not even smell her scent. Standing up, he searched for her presence, though all the forest yielded was an eerie silence in return. How odd, that he'd been wishing her gone for so many weeks, and now that she was, all he could think of was to look for her again.

Yet he had his integrity and his duty to consider. Sesshoumaru wasted as much time as his pride could spare in an attempt to find her, and when it became apparent that she was nowhere in the vicinity, he steeled himself and began his descent down the mountain. Nature gave him a wide berth as though sensing his foul mood. Birds went silent at his approach; prey animals and even predators fled. He ignored them, uninterested in the lives of those that might as well be insects. His thoughts turned grim.

Though the stone was broken, his dream hinted at the fact that there might be more of them. If that was true, then he would need to mount an investigation immediately to search for them, for the Relegation could not be allowed to possess such a powerful artifact. All this searching and investigating was wearing on his patience.

The thought he'd harbored previously returned to him now - the desire to transform and reshape the land as he saw fit, taking the lives of those who resisted his rightful rule without mercy or regret. By the same token, such a thing reminded him too much of mindless demons - even of Naraku, who did as he wished without regard for consequence.

No, Sesshoumaru was much too composed for that. If he should fall to such temptation, it meant that he believed himself too weak or incompetent to stop Katashi in his tracks and crush all of his heretical ambitions. Since that was not the case, his mood marginally improved, the knowledge that he could and _would_ destroy his enemies a bolstering thought.

Half way down the mountain path, he gathered his youki cloud and flew towards the sky. Nothing was different now that the child was gone. He was as alone as he had always been, his only companion a blessed silence that allowed him to think about all he needed to accomplish to keep his lands in order.

The day was clear, the whether permitting a quick and uneventful flight towards the base of operations that Susumu and Jaken had set up in the capital. He tried to think ahead of what he would order them to do and what the best method of searching for these stones was now that the one person who could sense their presence was gone. But, the second that thoughts of the child entered his mind, he noticed other things. Like how the sky resembled her eyes. How it surrounded him as her eyes had in the dream. The breeze blowing past him reminded him of the way her voice had sounded. All of this angered him, and he stewed in silent fury at his inability to forget someone so inconsequential.

 _I_ _'m sorry I can't go with you_ …

The girl's voice seemed to envelop him just like the heavens, an unwelcome specter that made him clench his fists in anger. Now was not the time to think of such trifling things. He had a war to stop. He an army to destroy and a human rebel to exterminate.

Yet past that, he remembered the older priestess' words and the darkness that he'd seen within her. She was a _fragment_ , she'd claimed, and the only logical explanation for it was that she was a fragment of the priestess herself. Did that mean that the one named Kagome was broken much like the stone? Did that mean that, if he found the other stones, he would see her again? Not that it mattered whether she had faded from existence or whether she still wandered somewhere here or in the spirit world. To him, it should make no difference.

_I promise that one day I will_ _…_

Despite his every will and despite his every rational argument against it, Sesshoumaru wondered when that day would come. She'd asked him to come back with her, so where was she? How could he find the other stones without her, if there were even others? Could he risk his precious time looking for something that may or may not exist when each day brought the Relegation more and more power? In that moment, Sesshoumaru made a crucial decision.

Upon his return to the capital, he would leave the searching of the stones to his servants while he prepared to wage full out war upon his enemies. He needed no armies or allies to fight beside him. Once Katashi witnessed true power, Sesshoumaru would allow him to quake in terror in his last moments. He would allow him to breathe his name with reverence in his final gasp. Then, and only then, would he be satisfied.

A sound from the north cut into his thoughts and caught his attention. Even from a great distance, he could make out the shape of his two-headed dragon beast carrying a pair of passengers that he assumed to be his servants. They landed in a clearing, both Susumu and Jaken looking pale as death as they rushed towards him. Both fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads against the ground. Sesshoumaru raised a brow at this exaggerated pandering but did nothing to stop it. From these positions, both demons rushed to speak over one another.

"My Lord," Susumu began. "My Lord, we were so worried when you did not return."

"This humble servant feels so much joy that he could shed tears for days," Jaken continued. "When My Lord was gone for so long, we feared…"

"Not that we doubted My Lord's strength," Susumu cut in.

"What nonsense do you speak?" Sesshoumaru interjected. "It has been just over a day since I left to search for the stone." Both demons looked up at him, if possible their faces losing even more color. Neither of them spoke; Sesshoumaru could easily sense their fear. Susumu's eyes wandered around, searching for something.

"My Lord, where is - "

"Explain your ramblings," Sesshoumaru growled, his vexation mounting. So, even the servants that despised her noticed her absence immediately. With that observation, he cut all ties with thoughts of the child. Something more serious than the disappearance of one of his tools was afoot, and he wanted to know what it was _immediately_.

"M-My Lord," Susumu swallowed past a lump in his throat and continued. "Do you…do you not know?"

Jaken straightened from his bow, but remained on his knees. His claim about shedding tears was not false. Even now, his ugly yellowed eyes were moist.

"My Lord, we searched everywhere for you. Though we know that your strength and power is beyond compare, we did not know where you could have disappeared to. The Relegation has begun to move into Harima and its surrounding provinces despite the rampaging plague. They have split into three massive groups, gathering more and more followers each day. They now have the numbers to challenge the Shogunate's armies. My Lord, in the time that you've been missing -"

Sesshoumaru raised his hand to stop him. "What did you say?"

Susumu's violet eyes flashed. "My Lord Sesshoumaru, you have been missing for over three months. The Lord of the North has been leading a secret campaign to raise votes to nullify your rightful rule. Please, you _must_ attend the meeting that they are holding in Izumo and show them that they are nothing but maggots in comparison to your greatness. Otherwise…"

He said no more, and he did not need to. Sesshoumaru had no time for surprise or disbelief at these revelations. He leaped into the skies, his rage simmering just beneath his veneer of calm and self control. His servants followed.

 _Maggots, indeed_ \- he thought with grim fatality. _Before the end, they will writhe beneath the heel of my boot for this betrayal._


	7. Chapter 6

 

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**Limerance**

Chapter 6

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What awakened beneath the broken remnants of the second stone was a girl who knew nothing. She lay upon the dark grey ruins of the slab, naked and listless, marveling only at the rush of sensations flowing through her being. Had her body been a sponge, it would have absorbed everything at once - the prickling cold, the softness of the wind, and the pain of the rocks that dug into her spine. Her eyes followed the cracked and ruined monument as it seemed to stretch to the very clouds, its surface smooth and unmarked as a baby's skin. That seemed wrong, somehow. Markings had once graced its surface, but now nothing remained.

Nothing but her.

She lay still for a long span of time, remembering this nothing and at the same time recalling everything. But as moments then minutes passed, those memories gave way to human thoughts. Companionship arrived in the form of creatures of all shapes and sizes. Drawn to her presence, they gathered around her, some prodding her still form with their snouts; others simply staying as close as their nature would allow. She recognized the names of some: rabbit, deer, fox, wolf, raccoon. None meant her harm. They came out of curiosity, for the girl was an anomaly of nature - both a child to it and a foreign thing, a living being that had no origin and no place among the wild.

It was then that the girl formed her first real thought:

_Who am I?_

And in that thought, an ego was born that answered with simplicity.

_I am Kagome._

_Higurashi Kagome._

Yet what that _meant_ eluded her. A name was useless without an origin. A name couldn't tell her why she was naked in the forest. It couldn't offer an explanation as to why she felt hollow and empty, like a vessel without a purpose and a glove without a hand to fit it. It did not explain why she lay beneath a broken stone as tall and glorious as giants of lore and legend or why she was certain that it should be covered in glowing markings.

Certainly, her name couldn't offer neither shelter from the cold nor protection from the elements, yet her mortal body needed those things all the same. Rolling to her feet, she watched the rabbit - watched as it looked about in all directions, seeking any kind of threat. She watched the deer do the same and saw the hunger in the eyes of the wolf. Instinct urged her to find a hiding place, for someone or something would come to take her life. Something would hunger for her flesh just as the wolf craved to crush the rabbit beneath its deadly paws.

Stumbling and clumsy, still unfamiliar with legs and arms and feet, the girl wandered through the trees, searching for anything that could offer her protection, however meager it might be. The animals followed as though guided by a silent bidding, keeping an eye out and seeing what she could not. The stag stayed close, his proud stature and dedication surprising her. Like a loyal guardian, he strayed no more than an arm's length from her side.

On the way, she spied a puddle of rainwater and looked upon her face for the first time. Washing mud and dirt from her skin, she traced her features with her finger pads, trying to memorize the lines, hills, and valleys of this foreign visage. Long raven tresses trailed down to her ankles; pale skin; huge blue eyes.

 _I look like my father_ \- she thought, though she had absolutely no recollection of who he was or what he'd looked like. He was long dead. She knew that much. Yet there was no sorrow in her heart, no mourning for his passing. Where was her mother, then? Was she dead, too? Had they both abandoned her here in this middle of nowhere? Was _that_ the reason that she was alone?

Somehow, that theory didn't feel right. The mother she could vaguely recall would never have done such a thing. So why was she here, then? Why did she feel like there was nothing and no one that needed her?

Continuing her awkward journey, the girl named Kagome shuffled through the underbrush, taking no heed of the nettles, vines, and branches that scraped and marred her body. The scratches that bled gave her pause. She recognized the sight of blood, thought she must have seen much of it in whatever past she'd had before all this.

More pictures flashed within her broken memories - golden eyes and silver hair. Fighting, scrambling, _clawing_ to survive. And an ache, right there in the left side of her breast - a deep and inexplicable pain that she called 'longing'. It crashed over her like waves when she remembered golden eyes and silver hair. A voice was there, too, begging her not to leave; begging her to come back. Again the thought assailed her:

_Who am I?_

A name was no longer enough to slake her thirst for understanding. She wanted - _needed_ \- answers, yearned for them as badly as she yearned for shelter. She lost herself so deeply in that search that she failed to notice when her animal companions began to vanish one by one. It was when the deer - the large buck - lowered its head and disappeared into the shadows that she should have known something was very wrong. Turning on her heel and finding herself alone, Kagome swallowed back a lump of feeling that she labeled 'fear'. The forest had gone silent, even the critters rustling in the grass and the canopy growing still as though in anticipation. A violent shudder mangled the skin upon her back, slinking between her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck. Her hand instantly reached behind her, ready to pull out… _what_ , exactly?

Before she could understand her own strange whim, something gigantic and hideous stumbled out of the trees. How she hadn't heard something so obscenely large approach was beyond her understanding. It stopped several meters away, failing to notice her until she let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. It turned slowly, the expression on its twisted features suggesting that it was just as bewildered to see her. Kagome raised her chin to see its face, scaly and distorted, with eyes bright and luminous like twin stars. A pair of sleek black horns protruded from its forehead, and its jaws moved restlessly, drool dripping from swollen tattered lips. Muscled thighs clenched in preparation for a chase; Kagome didn't hesitate. With speed born of sheer terror, she sprinted away from the creature as fast as her small feet would carry her.

As she darted through the underbrush, her eyes looked everywhere for something she could use as a weapon. What good was knowing her name? What good was knowing why she'd been abandoned here, helpless and vulnerable? Knowing those things was comforting, but it was the _unknowing_ that terrified her even beyond the thought of what the creature would do to her if it caught her. The _not knowing_ of everything else but her name made this situation feel like something out of a classic horror film.

As the monster behind her opened its maw and gave a roar that surely made the woods tremble for miles around, foul smelling slime and saliva sprayed everywhere along with meaty chunks that looked like something she decided she'd rather not identify. She dared only a single glance back to gauge how close it was to clawing her in half before turning right back around with a savage curse.

Kagome had no time to consider that she didn't know what a horror film actually _was_ or why being a heroine in such a thing was akin to a slow and horrible death sentence. She had no time to wonder why she felt guilty swearing when it felt so damn good. She also had no time to reconcile the fact that she still had absolutely no idea who she actually _was_. The only thing that distinctly registered was the word 'panic' and every form of it that she could embody physically and emotionally.

Her lungs felt like they might burst if she kept running, but she did so anyway. The alternative of becoming a demon's dinner was simply unacceptable. Even when loose pebbles and rocks cut into the soles of her feet, she still ran. No goal. No destination. That is, aside from 'anywhere as long as it's far away from the giant evil scary thing that wants to eat me'. Running through the woods barefoot and bare- _assed_ wasn't as easy as Hollywood made it look, whatever _that_ was.

Random and alien thoughts ran through her mind with a speed that matched her feet in the dirt. Wild and strange images. Names of places she didn't recognize. Faces that were distorted and muddled. It seemed that her heightened emotional instability had broken past some sort of mental blockade. Information poured out too quickly for her to even _hope_ to process all of it. Meanwhile, the demon continued chasing her, apparently suffering none of the physical setbacks that she was.

It swiped at her with massive white claws dripping with green venom that smelled like something out of a sewer grate. Each time Kagome dodged a blow, she heard trees splintering around and above her. Soon, she began to tire. Her movements grew sluggish. Kagome knew that within minutes, she wouldn't be able to dodge at all.

The monster's acidic poison melted through leaves, bark, and even stone. Kagome knew that if it managed to hit her, it would dissolve her skin like fine parchment in water. By the time she realized she was running around in circles, it was too late to change her course. The volatile acid transformed into emerald fumes that hissed as they rolled along the ground then rose upwards in a thick miasma. Trapped by the thick canopy, the vapor filled the forest like a gas chamber. Coughing with stabbing agonized breaths and hoarse heaving, Kagome fought past her fear and kept her body moving. Stopping even for a second wasn't an option. Surely somewhere out there, help awaited.

Surely…

But no matter how long she waited, nothing came.

 _No one_ came.

Somehow, the knowledge that she truly was alone was paralyzing. The next swipe of the monster's claws caught Kagome right across her side. Though only a tiny part had made contact, it was enough to gouge between her ribs and smear venom all over her skin. At that point, there was no more self control. She opened her mouth and screamed. Knives and needles speared at her throat, but she screamed and screamed and screamed.

There was no end to it, just like there was no end to her pain. Through a haze, she _felt_ her skin begin to melt and knew that she would die. Yet still she clambered to her feet and limped away, still fought tooth and nail to survive. Another blow came, this time from one of the trees that the monster had torn up by the roots.

The blow sent her tumbling forward in a mess of hair, blood, and flailing limbs. She lost all sense of time. One moment, she was hesitating at an embankment and the next she was falling down towards an expanse of blue water with only a steep rocky cliff as her guide. She hadn't even realized that this forest had such an abrupt end. The ocean below swayed with cold efficiency, swirling and shimmering in the light of the setting sun. Almost beautiful. Almost familiar.

Kagome watched her own shadow upon its surface grow; this would be a fatal fall. The water wouldn't cushion her. It would swallow her up, filling her lungs with salty brine until she couldn't breathe.

_And I'll never know who I am_ _…_

When she finally crashed into the water's depths, it might as well have been a gate into another world. Through the salt and murk, she saw things she couldn't understand. Was she hallucinating? Was she already drowning and dreaming?

On the sandy bottom of the ocean, far below her feet, she saw war raging in all its sinful and malicious glory. Before her eyes, creatures - _people_ \- were fighting in a massive battle, tearing into each other without the slightest bit of mercy. Demons were there, too. Helping? Hindering? She couldn't have said. In the front, she saw a lone figure cut a swath through hundreds of warriors, a two headed dragon by its side. Hair as white as moonlight. Eyes golden, narrow, and so intense they stole her very breath. The sword in his hand carved destruction and death into the land, cleaving through the battle with unnatural grace.

She called to him using a name she realized she'd known upon awakening. Yet no matter how much she did so, he did not turn around. He couldn't see or sense her. Her voice couldn't reach him. Despair assailed her, a desire to stand beside him and a yearning for another…a figure who looked similar yet different: one who had meant everything to her before…

…before what? No matter how hard she tried, Kagome couldn't remember. The water closed in around her, crushing all air from her lungs and all hope and reason from her thoughts. In the end, all she could do was continue to scream as the demon's acid burned through the flesh in her side. Bubbles streamed from her mouth - the last of her air and the last of her life.

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When the girl opened her eyes, she swore she could still feel the demon's claws cutting into her. She shot up in bed, skin slick with frigid sweat and shoulders shaking with terror. With staccato breaths, she clutched at her chest, reminding herself that she _could_ breathe - that she was no longer trapped beneath the waves; that she was safe and protected.

Trembling hands reached beneath her clothes, sliding over the long ridges and deformed skin on her left side. The wounds had miraculously healed, but they would leave unsightly scars. Her eyes glazed over as she recalled the day that she'd nearly died and all the dreams she'd had of it thereafter. Had things gone differently that day, she might still be at the bottom of the ocean floor, her corpse rotting into oblivion without a single soul to mourn her passing.

_Yet I was saved_ _…_

She should have been grateful. She should have spent each day in prayer to the Gods, thanking whatever fates had reunited her with family and those who cared for her. So why wasn't she doing just that? Why did _this_ happen every night? Why did strange thoughts and figures haunt her dreams and waking hours?

Each day rose up around her like a new kind of prison, trapping her in a mundane routine of pretense and confusion. Each day, she had to pretend she was getting better when, in truth, every time she shut her eyes, all she could see was either a recollection of her first awakening or a woman standing in a waterfall and a man who watched her with a hunter's hungry gaze.

If anything, it was the latter dream that frequented her most often. When all was quiet, when the servants stepped away and the guards left her to her privacy, she sought out those dreams despite all the warnings in her heart. In the silence, she relived the vision of the bathing woman and her strange companion, desperate to understand what it was that this memory wanted her to know. The realization that she could have _been_ that woman did not pass her by. After all, she looked exactly like an older version of herself.

To rid herself of the terror of her nightmare she'd just had, the girl tried recalling that vision once again. It was peaceful at that waterfall; it was a moment that was eternal and unbreakable. Behind closed eyelids, she swore she could see moonlight streaming through a curtain of tree branches. The murmur of water cascading over stone surrounded her, and she shivered as though a cold evening breeze reached beneath the folds of her thin clothing. The clarity of it all was unsettling yet wondrous. Her peers and guardians insisted that such illusions were nothing but foolish vagaries, but could delusions feel so real? Could they feel so much like memories?

As the girl rubbed sleep and confusion from her eyes, the image of the raven-haired bathing woman standing beneath the waterfall remained. As did the one who was there with her. Just remembering it caused her heart to trip over itself in an unsteady gate. She'd seen the same thing so many times now that it didn't take a dream for her to recall each and every detail. The same man watched that woman as the one she'd seen battling beneath the ocean waters - the one who'd cut a path through hundreds with a single swing of his blade. He was chaos and destruction; he was death. He was ruthlessness and danger. Yet he was mesmerizing, too.

Everything about him drew her unwavering and full attention. How he looked as he waded through the currents of the river towards the woman at the waterfall. How the silk of his robes floated around him like ribbons of white and golden light. How his silver hair streamed behind him, a banner of pride and a badge that marked him as something far from human, as a creature that stood above the cage that was mortality. She even imagined that she knew his name…

"Sesshoumaru..." she breathed in the quietest of whispers, touching her fingertips to her lips as though wanting to _feel_ the name as well as taste it.

With each step he took towards the woman in her recollections, the girl felt her breath hitch just a little more. Who _was_ he? Why did she keep dreaming of him? Did he have anything to do with her past?

Her guardians would frown upon her dwelling on such things. Everything had already been explained to her a thousand times - the reason for her doubt, the truth behind her confusion, and her reluctance to accept that truth. With a weary sigh, the girl closed her eyes, brought her hands together in prayer, and began to chant the litany that she'd forced upon herself every night since she'd been brought to this estate so many weeks ago:

"My name is Miyoshi Midori. I am a princess, the noble daughter to the late head of the Miyoshi clan and betrothed to Ouchi Yoshitaka who was betrayed and murdered in cold blood by his rivals. I _loved_ him and was happy to know we would be wed."

She paused there, waiting to feel any kind of sorrow or regret. When nothing happened, she continued.

"When he was killed, I begged father to send me to the sacred Miyajima island to become a Shinto priestess so that I might live out the rest of my life alone with my grief. That island was the staging ground for a bitter battle, and in the scramble and confusion, I nearly lost my life."

Again, nothing. No pain in her chest. No anger. Not even a hint of emotional response. The words she spoke might as well have been the retelling of a stranger's life.

Kicking off the heavy covers of her futon, the young woman stood and padded over to the full length mirror by her dressing curtain. She looked at her face, examined each feature of it.

Bright blue eyes that were unnatural for members of her clan. Fingernails that were too short for a noblewoman's hands and cuticles that were worn and uncared for. She examined her palms and the distinct callouses on the ridges of her fingers. Not from a broom for sweeping temple steps or from hard manual labor as a shrine maiden, but from the regular and frequent use of a weapon - from a bow.

Even now, when a sudden noise or a knocking frightened her, she reached for something on her back as though it was second nature. It had taken her days to remember that it was a quiver filled with arrows that she sought.

"These memories are false," she assured the girl staring back at her. "I was hurt when a sacred artifact was destroyed in my temple. I'm confused, and that is all there is to it." She said it twice more, and each time, her heart protested with pain and regret. At last, she gave in and tried something else.

"Alright," she sighed. "Here goes." Taking a steadying breath, she spoke again.

"My name is Kagome," she spoke to her reflection, and in response her very soul seemed to agree. "I do not belong here." Another stab of pain. "Kagome…" she repeated the name, coming closer and closer to the mirror until she could touch her reflection. "Higurashi Kagome…"

The name was like thunder, sending jolts of electricity skirmishing through each and every one of her nerves until she gasped in pain.

"Higurashi Kagome," she said again with similar results.

A knock at her door made her start. She recognized the outline past the rice-paper screen right away.

"Midori," a gruff male voice beckoned. "Midori, I'm coming in."

Before she could come up with an excuse to deny him, the man did just that. He slid open the door and stepped inside. Kagome took in his somewhat unkempt appearance. His long dark auburn hair hung loose around his shoulders, his chin rough and unshaven. The belt of his yukata was messily tied, as though fingers had tugged it closed in a rush. A pair of swords hung at his hip. Vivid emerald orbs looked around the room as though searching for a threat. All of this set Kagome on edge, but the one named Midori inside her - false or not - was immediately concerned.

"Katashi," she called, padding over to him and settling a hand over the one that was even now reaching for his sword. "It's alright." His shoulders tensed. " _I'm_ alright."

"One of your guards reported shouting and voices coming from your chambers," he continued as though he didn't hear her. "He was right to call me here." Wrapping a corded arm around her waist, he thrust her behind him so that she stood between his back and the door. Seeing the man who saved her life in such a state hurt the one called Midori. Though Kagome tried to stop her, that gentle self reached out and leaned against the tall warrior's back. She smoothed a hand down one of his bandaged grizzled arms. Midori's heart went out to him and to the pain he endured every single day.

 _The cost of power_...Kagome reminded her.

"It was just a nightmare," Midori insisted in a voice that didn't sound like hers. "I just had a bad dream." It took a few minutes, but when Katashi was finally convinced that there was no immediate threat to fight off, he sheathed his blade and turned to her. The tension in his shoulders eased. That such a normally tidy and organized man had been worried enough to tug on his clothes in such a haphazard fashion and to rush over here all the way from the West wing of the palace spoke volumes to her. Midori knew his behavior and his concern to be genuine, though Kagome still doubted his true intentions.

"I'm sorry that you had to run here…" Midori apologized. "It was not my intent to cause a disturbance."

"No," he cut in, pulling her against him and pressing his scratchy chin against her hair. His large hand ran up and down her back in soothing motions, the bandages snagging here and there in her wavy locks. "Never apologize to me, Midori. Better that I came for nothing than something happen to you…"

"Katashi, I…" Instinctively, Kagome tried to pull away from the embrace in alarm. It felt far too intimate, and heat rose to her cheeks. Midori was flustered; Kagome struggled with how wrong all of this felt.

"We shouldn't be alone here," she finished lamely. "I know you said that we're," Kagome swallowed nervously, "that we were going to be married, but I…" He gave a curt nod before she could finish.

"Midori," he said, "you don't need to explain." He let her go and stepped away from her.

Kagome let out a pent up breath, relieved. She focused her gaze on the grisly scar that stretched down the right side of his face. He'd almost lost his eye fighting off the ogre that had nearly taken her life. Seeing that scar flushed her with a new kind of guilt. This man had risked so much for her - was even now doing so - yet all she could think about was leaving him.

Midori railed against this injustice, but Kagome pushed her concerns aside. Katashi continued speaking as though he was oblivious to her discomfort and inner turmoil.

"I know that you still harbor feelings for my cousin, Yoshitaka," he said, his voice terse. "I want to assure you that this union will be merely a formality. To protect you. I will expect nothing of you until you are ready."

Despite the indifferent tone of his voice, Kagome sensed he wasn't being completely honest in that assurance. He was wrong, of course, but she couldn't reveal that. At least, not yet.

"I have not forgotten that you are still young and have yet to undergo your coming of age ceremony. Though you are not yet fifteen, I've convinced your father to allow the ceremony to take place so that we may wed this month. I will not risk waiting any longer."

 _Today_ \- she decided suddenly. _I have to tell him today._

"Katashi, there's something I've been meaning to say to you," Kagome confessed. "It's about the things I remembered about my past…about the things that I saw at the stone…"

His expression hardened immediately. It looked as though someone had punched him in the gut.

"Those are _false_ memories, Midori. Remember? The stone was a conduit of divine power, and for some reason when it touched you, a part of that power was absorbed into your consciousness. In all the confusion, your mind created memories of things that never happened."

Yes, and he'd made it a point to repeat the same words to her over and over again for weeks. None of it did any good, nor was she convinced by this convenient explanation no matter how many times she heard it.

"But what about the Jewel of Four Souls?" she protested. "What about the demon called Naraku and the priestess who fought him? What about the man with silver hair and the war that I saw happening?" She shook her head. "Those memories are _real_. I _know_ they are."

"Perhaps pieces of them," he conceded with reluctance, "but the rest are nothing more than fantasy. Remember what the monk at Miyajima told us. He even performed a ritual for confirmation."

"I don't know if I trust his interpretation," she frowned. "Katashi, I'm grateful to you for saving my life, and I'm grateful that you want to protect me, but…" she threw up her hands, her frustration and stress finally getting the better of her. "I'm _confused_. I'm confused and I'm scared. When I look into the mirror," she pointed to the dressing curtain, "I see a girl named _Kagome_. There is _nothing_ left of Midori. I don't know her. I remember _nothing_ of her. You say she was in love with Yoshitaka, but I don't even remember what he looked like. You say that you and I have known each other since childhood, but I have no recollection of you before meeting you three months ago. And the man you say is my father..."

_I look nothing like him..._

"It's alright," he soothed, sliding a hand beneath her chin. "It will take time, but you will undoubtedly…" He reached to caress her cheek but she snapped away from his touch.

"No," she said firmly. "I want to go back to the stone. I want to go back to where you found me. I want to see that place with my own eyes…"

"What good will it do, Midori?" She noticed that he was going out of his way to use her name. He had been ever since the incident.

"Kagome," she contradicted. "Please, call me Kagome."

"But you _are_ Midori," he insisted, his expression unwavering.

She threw him a fiery glance.

"Don't look at me like that, child. I won't indulge in these fantasies. Not while war is brewing and not while the Relegation is so vulnerable."

"War is brewing because _you insist_ that it does," she accused. "I've asked others of the court about it, and no one has told me anything of the sort."

"To spare your sensibilities, at my command," he replied, "and at your father's."

"Who is the Lord of the West?" she ploughed on, worried she may not get another chance to speak this frankly with him again. "Lord Narinaga told me he rules lands to the north of here that are —"

"That's enough, Midori." Embers sparked to life in Katashi's eyes at her words. He raised his hand, and for a second she thought he might hit her. After a moment, he lowered it back to his side, shuddering as he regained his composure.

"This is why everyone was given strict orders not to speak to you about the delicate political situation of our Clan dealings. You are vulnerable and your mental state is fragile for now."

"Katashi…"

"You say such things because you are still confused, but make no mistake. I am lenient with you because I care for you and because of your circumstances. You are young and naive to the ways of the world. However, when you are my wife, I will tolerate no such disobedience."

"I haven't agreed to marry you," she reminded him, refusing to back down.

"Your father and I have spoken. There is no agreement necessary on your part. Our union will offer you protection, and at the same time, the Miyoshi and the Ouchi clans will unite forces to continue our opposition of the Shogunate. Your husband will be a great general, and you will want for nothing. When you are ready, you will give me a son, and our blood lines will be united and strengthened."

"I don't want that kind of life," she protested. A moment as Katashi considered this. In a single stride, he closed in on her and grabbed her upper arms in an iron grip. She flinched.

"Midori. This is for the best. When will you stop with this foolishness and come to accept what must be?"

"I want to go to the stone," she repeated, meeting his glare with her own. They stared each other down for several minutes when -

"Alright" Katashi sighed. "Give me some time, and I will arrange for an escort. If this will finally put you at ease, then I can spare the time and resources."

"I can go myself."

"Absolutely not."

"I _can_ protect myself. You've seen my power first hand, and I can wield a bow."

"A princess doesn't do such things," he frowned. "Nor does a general's wife." He raised a brow. "A bow, Midori? Powers? The ability to protect yourself from danger? These are all illusions granted by the stone. Remember what happened with the ogre. Remember how you were almost killed. I won't risk losing you, especially not now. You _must_ believe me. You _must_ trust me."

"And I do," Midori rushed to answer before Kagome could stop her.

"Then behave yourself and listen to reason," Katashi warned. "Before I change my mind and lock you away as your father insists."


	8. Chapter 7

 

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**Limerance**

Chapter 7

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In the darkness of the void, Susumu lost sense of time. He envisioned himself flying over mountains, drifting through the knee-length grass of fields and valleys, and floating through the rivers and streams of forests. Through this incredible connection to nature, he called to those bound to him since birth, to the spirit companions that had been the closest allies of his proud and noble people since the dawn of their existence. These wise spirits - called Inari by the humans who practiced the Shinto faith - could carry messages over incredible distances and embodied the essence of nature itself.

Right now, he relied on them for a particular task, one he wasn't entirely certain that he could accomplish. His mother had been able to control the Inari with an ease that had earned her fame and great respect among the Clan. Susumu was still young, however. He only possessed three out of nine of his tails of power and still had much to learn about the intricacies of the magic native to his race. Therefore, to say that hearing his Inari's voices was difficult right then was to say that he merely disliked his role as a servant rather than despised it. It was this role, after all, that had stunted his growth as a demon and was even now preventing him from seeking more wisdom and knowledge as he wished.

_Focus, Susumu...now is not the time for regret or lament._

At last, he found a trace of his Inari's presence. Images of a great city pervaded his mind, streets filled with the hustle and bustle of a growing human population. The most prominent image was of a palace with green rooftops and a a stone courtyard where horses, infantry soldiers, and archers filed into formation. Their uniforms and the crest upon them was familiar, the golden symbol for "steel lightning" stirring up a sense of foreboding. He recognized the city, then, as one that was located close to the border between the Harima and Tanba provinces. His summons had gone far to find what he needed them to, and now they lingered in this growing city, staying beside their enemies as invisible spies. It took all of his concentration to listen to them now, and the warnings they gave filled his heart with both a great thrill and a dark dread.

**_Much to say, master_ ** **_…_ ** _too hard to speak_ _…_ **coming** **…coming closer…** **_beware, master_ ** **_…_ ** **many are coming, riding, flying** **…** _one is who heartless rides with them_ _…_ **death** **…bringer of death…**

Indeed. From the way he saw the Relegation soldiers gathering and arming themselves, he knew that they prepared to march upon the Western lands once more. He couldn't have guessed their immediate goals, but he intended to find out. Change was coming - not just to the land but to his role in life as well. It was centuries overdue, and he'd almost given up hope of ever seeing it, but his patience and persistence was finally about to pay off. He still knew too little about what was truly going on, but he was certain that the Relegation was his ticket to victory over the strife of his struggle as a nameless vassal to the Western lands.

"What are you staring at?" Jaken complained beside him in his typical mirthess manner, his back straight as a board and his nose raised high as though the air around him was polluted with an offensive odor. Secretly, Susumu suspected that everything that wasn't their master, Lord Sesshoumaru, antagonized him in one way or another.

Being around one who flaunted such an asinine attitude grated on the kitsune's raw nerves like dull metal upon stone. For the moment, the halfwit had disrupted his concentration, and Susumu cursed him as the connection he'd struggled to maintain with his Inari was severed. Their voices faded into the ambient background noise of the wood, shrinking until they became nothing more than the chirping of crickets and the crashing of waves upon the nearby cliffs.

"He isn't going to be pleased," Susumu grumbled, opting to pretend that he was interested in what they'd come for. His eyes focused on the shattered surface of the enormous stone monument before him, the rock as dull and lifeless as a corpse.

"The stone doesn't look like it's supposed to," Jaken said.

"No. It doesn't."

"It's obviously broken."

" _How observant of you,"_ Susumu muttered under his breath. Out loud, he said: "Yes. It is."

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming," the kappa groused, bitterness thick in every word.

What Susumu wouldn't have given to rip that staff from his slimy webbed fingers and beat his face in until he could no longer speak. He took a deep breath and restrained this violent urge, keeping his expression set in firm neutrality.

"You could at least _try_ to be useful for once, fox. We've already made Lord Sesshoumaru wait long enough."

Again, Susumu suppressed his need to see his partner bleeding out into the dirt. He moved away from him; better to put some distance between them before he lost control of his temper.

Silent as a cat on the prowl, he made circles around the ruined monument, his feet gliding over cracked rocks, dead leaves, and upturned soil without making a single sound. Tails swishing rhythmically in thought and ears swiveling around to subtly seek out the sound of his Inari's voices, he examined everything he could with utmost detail. His clawed fingers traced heavy tracks in the dirt that resembled small human feet.

Not far from there, a trail of blood began, leading him through a thick underbrush to an unexpected edge of a cliff. The surrounding area looked like it had been at the heart of a hurricane. Trees were splintered, some torn up by their roots. The ground was a mess of claw marks, acid-melted stone, and more dried blood.

"What happened here?" Jaken questioned, following a short distance behind his partner. Susumu frowned. The kappa was relying on Susumu's tracking skills and intuition to make a report, yet he treated him with enough disrespect to warrant severe retaliation. Without him, the moron would have been completely lost; field work was out of his depth. Oh, how he wished that he could break his bones, shove him in a box, and send him back to the Western estates. No matter. Soon, he would have his vengeance. As he continued his examination, he tried to decide what information he should withhold for his own benefit.

"It's difficult to say exactly what transpired here, but the scuffle didn't end well for _someone_." He glanced over at the cliff side. "A fall from that height would have been fatal to anyone but a demon." Pointing to the tracks, he added: " _This_ was no demon, however. The attacker was likely an ogre judging by the toe patterns and the deposits of acid, but his trail disappears into the forest. Meanwhile," he marked the smaller prints, " _this_ creature - a human from the looks of things - must have tumbled over the edge."

"I smell horseflesh and manure," Jaken grimaced, wrinkling his nose. Again with that haughty attitude.

"There were some marks in the dirt not far from here suggesting the presence of riders," Susumu nodded. "But they came later and took no part in this skirmish, whatever it was."

 _They're related to all this somehow. I can sense it, but he doesn't need to know that._ _Not until I'm certain of what that relationship is._

"What does it matter?" Jaken grumbled. "It isn't as if any of this information will be useful. The stone is broken, meaning it's useless. That's all that Lord Sesshoumaru wanted to know."

 _And that's all you and he **will** know of it with that mindset - _Susumu thought. _This is why my people are renowned for their intelligence while yours continue to fester in swamp hovels like heathens._ Susumu did his best to avoid the main body of the real trail. _Right now, my priority is to lead him from this place._

"On the contrary. I think we need to follow this trail." Susumu folded his arms across his chest. Jaken didn't look pleased with that verdict. "Unless you suggest that we return to Lord Sesshoumaru empty handed." When Jaken gave no answer either way, Susumu made his way back to the stone.

Though these artifacts had yet to be named, he called them 'fragments' in his reports to Lord Sesshoumaru. This particular fragment was nothing but an empty shell now. Whatever magic might have lived inside it once had broken free, and Susumu could only guess at where it might be now and what form it had taken. He _hated_ guessing, which was why now, more than ever before, he was glad that he had a backup plan for all this.

"We should follow the trail," he repeated with more confidence.

"The trail is old," Jaken protested. "We won't be able to see it through the thick forest."

"I've already sent my own servants to do the job," the kitsune lied.

"What?" Jaken turned to him. "You sent the Inari and acted without permission _again_?"

"I did what was necessary," the kitsune replied, unfazed in the face of Jaken's resentment. "Surely you didn't believe that traipsing around the provinces, randomly flying over forests, and blindly looking for these stones based on rumor were the right things to do for _your_ Lord Sesshoumaru."

"He is _your_ lord and master, too, you insolent curr!" Jaken stomped his webbed foot on the ground, his unstable temper flaring.

Had he been able to destroy the kitsune with the venom in his glare, Susumu was certain that he would have been dead. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Nor was this surprising. Their cooperation had been shaky from the start. It was only because of the kitsune's ruse that they'd maintained any kind of illusion of civility before Lord Sesshoumaru.

"Outrageous!" the kappa hissed. "I won't have this...this...this... _disobedience_. Lord Sesshoumaru will hear of your insubordination."

"Insubordination?" Susumu's jaw clenched, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white. He felt the mantle of his self-restraint slipping. Little by little, with each vile word delivered like a slap in the face, that mantle fell away until all that remained was raw antipathy. When he spoke, Susumu's voice crackled with anger.

"Pray, explain your vexation with me, Jaken. Is it that I _disobeyed_ you, or that I've _outdone and outplayed_ you?"

"Outplayed?" Jaken sputtered, "outdone? What _nonsense_ is this?"

Susumu swiveled around to singe the kappa with the fire in his violet eyes.

"It took us over a week to find this thing," he gestured to the fragment. "A week of _wasted time_ and _resources_. Judging by the evidence we've found, there's no proof that whatever came away from this stone has been forcibly removed. This is all due to _your_ incompetence and _your_ indecisiveness. For that, I'll gladly let _you_ tell Lord Sesshoumaru of the possibility that our enemy is in possession of whatever power lay dormant here. Meanwhile, I'll be doing all I can to actually get some results so that I might shed light on _your_ stupidity."

The kappa huffed indignantly and pursed his lips. "My Lord Sesshoumaru will know what to do about this. He doesn't need his _servants_ meddling in his business and acting on their own orders like commoner _scum_." Susumu frowned in irritation, Jaken's blind unwavering loyalty and confidence in their master tugging that mantle even further down. Anything said now was just salt being rubbed into his already blistered pride.

"Is that before or _after_ he tears off both of our heads?" he challenged. "We were supposed to locate this fragment and report its location so that the Relegation could be prevented from acquiring it. Yet by all appearances - "

"We don't know they have it," Jaken countered stubbornly. If he raised his nose any higher, Susumu swore that he would cut it off himself.

"What do _you_ propose, then? That whatever it was inside this piece of rock just got up and walked away on its own?"

"We don't know what _it_ was…or _is_ …which is precisely why you will recall your servants _now_. We need more information, and they could be put to better use in _my_ command." He shook his head. "The last thing I need is you messing everything up at the critical moment."

At those words, Susumu ground his teeth so hard together they hurt. Even _suggesting_ that a worthless kappa would be allowed to commune with a kitsune's Inari was insulting beyond anything that could be tolerated. It was all Susumu could do to restrain himself from carelessly acting on his plan now. Then again, perhaps it wouldn't be carelessness. Why hesitate? He had a decent trail to follow, his Inari had given him plenty of warning and direction...he was more than capable of doing as he pleased.

He examined his partner, noted the way he stood in front of him, his back exposed. His guard was down; he couldn't imagine that Susumu would truly have the backbone to go against him. Just as well, then, for it would make this that much easier. Relaxing his fists and smoothing the agitated expression on his face, Susumu turned his back on the kappa and took another deep breath. He closed his eyes and tugged on the link he shared with his Inari, hoping to extract as much information as he could before he made a final decision. After all, once he did this, there would be no going back.

"Are you recalling them?" Jaken urged.

 _It would help if you shut your trap_ \- Susumu thought irritably. _No matter. I will silence you soon enough._ Without answering his supposed superior, the kitsune pulled harder on his psychic connection with the Inari. At length, they answered. Their message was more jumbled now than it was earlier - full of words and feelings that mushed together into a tangled mess. They rushed to speak over one another, their urgency palpable.

_They are coming to the second monument_ _…_ **_The heartless one is riding_ ** **_…_ ** _in order to_ _…_ **There is a girl with the other riders** **…** **_riding with the others_ ** **_…_ ** _show the girl a false past_ _…_ **She is different** **…** _She must be shown the truth_ _…_ **_and he has a terrible weapon with him. Death. Destruction. Disease. If he should_ ** **_…_ ** _They are close, barely a week away and_ _…_ **She is two when she should be one. Only one heart is** **…** _they need to be stopped_ _…_ **_bring her here, all will be lost for she will never_ ** **_…_ ** **required to the souls to join** **…** **_remember her destiny._ **

"Well?" Jaken cut into his trance yet again. When Susumu didn't immediately reply, the kappa's face scrunched and crumpled into an expression of disgust. "You useless swine," he snapped. "I'm at the end of my patience with your kitsune games. You better learn your place or I'll _show_ it to you."

"I've learned what I needed to," Susumu interjected. He raised his chin, his tone arrogant and spiteful.

" _And?_ "

"And it's time that you learned _your_ place, Jaken." A wicked smile stretched his lips from one corner to the other. "It is time for me to break away from you. Things have been set in motion which you will never understand."

" _What did you say, you pathetic fox?"_ Jaken's eyes flared, the staff in his hands trembling with his fury. Susumu felt the spike in his meager power, felt the threat and killing intent directed his way. If he wanted to, Jaken had full leave to kill him. Sesshoumaru didn't trust Susumu at all, and Jaken was the favorite. Undermining him to take his place wasn't practical, and outright killing him meant cutting all ties with his master. Since he was far from ready to do that, he'd been forced to find another way. It was foolish of the kappa to think that he would simply roll over and allow him to do as he pleased. Foolish enough to end in his demise.

"I _said_ that I'm not going to listen to your prattle any longer, _toad._ " Too long had this inconsequential demon lorded over him. They'd served the West equally for the same amount of time, yet Jaken believed himself above other vassals only because Lord Sesshoumaru had allowed him to travel with him during the war with Naraku.

As a kitsune, he was of a much higher caliber than this kappa could ever hope to be. His people were not only more noble, but were superior in power, wisdom, experience, and influence as well. For a long time now, he'd planned on ending the toad's unearned reign of superiority.

When Susumu drew one of his swords and used his magic to meld into the colors of the forest, Jaken paled.

"T-Traitor!" he hissed.

"No," Susumu drawled. "Opportunist."

.

.

.

.

Sesshoumaru had always held little confidence in those who served him. Thus, when he did not hear back from Jaken and the kitsune for over a week, he was not surprised. Relying on others had never been one of his weaknesses. Generally, if he wanted something done, he did it himself because no one could accomplish anything better than the Lord of the West. However, lately this had become exasperatingly difficult.

The situation with the Relegation aside, his mysterious three month absence had caused a rift in the ruling class of demons in the four corners of the land that couldn't be ignored or tolerated. Settling the disputes that were a direct result of this incident required his full attention, and he'd been forced to choose between intercepting the rebellion on his lands and putting the other demon lords in their place.

The Lord of the North sought to use Sesshoumaru's disappearance to his advantage, claiming that the West should join with the North under his jurisdiction. It only took a single visit to squash his greed. The coward hadn't even given Sesshoumaru a chance the threaten him. His presence on his lands alone had terrified him into blubbering submission. Nonetheless, Sesshoumaru attended the so-called conference in the small and neutral province of Izumo where a palace had been build for just such occasions. He hadn't been there since the time of his father, when he attended such gatherings as part of his training.

The entire affair was, in his mind, a taxing and irritating venture. What the other Lords had labeled a "meeting of rulers and greater minds", Sesshoumaru dubbed a trying waste of his precious time. He hadn't stopped by his estates to prepare, nor had he sent for any of his vassals to accompany him as was tradition. He arrived alone, and from the first moment made it quite clear that he had no intention of staying and dallying with those beneath him, for he had more important issues to take care of than an argument over rightful rule. There was no question in his mind that his lands were his own and that, there, he was the only true master. None dared to challenge him directly, though they did attempt to do so by bringing up irrelevant concerns.

He easily brushed off their claim that having no heir made him somehow weaker. It was far too early to consider such trifles. Naturally, the East held an interest in casting the shadow of doubt over this issue. The Lord of those lands had a vested interest in marrying off one of his six daughters to the West, thus gaining a firm and unshakable alliance. Even if Sesshoumaru understood his motives, he did not assign them any worth or value. Right now, the Relegation and the power they sought were his first concerns.

He might have been bitter about the fact that shortly after Naraku's demise, yet another power rose up to challenge him. However, such was far from the case. His father's life had been similar to this - a constant battle to maintain his superiority and a life filled with opportunities to increase his strength. Finding a mate and producing an heir were nothing but frippery in comparison to such worthwhile endeavors, something he would see to one century or another.

Thus, no more than three days after his arrival in Izumo, he excused himself from the conference, leaving to see to truly important matters. Over the past several days, an unrelenting restlessness held him in its grip. He had many things to consider, including the reasons for why he'd disappeared for so long and where he had gone. He recalled what he'd seen in his "dream" - the two versions of the priestess that had both given him strict warnings of events to come.

He hardly believed in the convoluted notion of prophecy, yet what he'd seen with the stone had shown him that greater forces were at work here than he could have anticipated. Though the only Gods that existed were demons like him and his father, he accepted that ancient magic held a special place in the heirarchy of power in this world.

And what he was dealing with _was indeed_ ancient. He wanted to resume his search for the stones as soon as possible, for he was certain that once he contained their power, he could destroy the Relegation at its root. He was not intimidated by some human who claimed to possess otherworldly abilities.

If rumor said he could not be killed, he would simply have to disprove it. Doing so might just be enough to scatter the rebellion, but if it wasn't, then he would destroy them one by one and eradicate their plague from his lands. On the way, perhaps he could find more information about the stones and what they were.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," a voice cut into his thoughts. He turned to see the Lord of the East gliding towards him, surrounded by servants and vassals dressed in his family colors of orange and red. His robes flowed behind him, thick ribbons of fabric fluttering loose here and there to give the illusion of rays of sunlight. For the moment, Sesshoumaru decided to see what this demon wanted from him. Offending the other Lords on purpose wasn't a logical or sensible step towards a harmonious relationship with the other lands. His mind quickly reminded him that should the other Lords rise up against him, he was more than powerful enough to kill them.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," the Lord of the East - Seyare - called again. He approached Sesshoumaru but stayed within a polite conversational distance. "We were hoping to speak with you more about our discussion in the Jade Room."

"This Sesshoumaru is of no inclination to discuss that matter further," he replied in a tone flat enough to surprise his conversation partner. Lord Seyare seemed put out at first, but Sesshoumaru knew that the man was nothing if not tenacious. In this case, recklessly so. His black eyes sparked with a flare of cunning mischief before he gestured to a figure hidden behind some of the servants' large golden fans. The shuffled aside to reveal a woman dressed in a fine crimson kimono.

"This is my eldest daughter, Akamine. Her beauty is beyond compare in all of the East, South, and North." The woman stepped forward and bowed low, her grace and poise undeniable.

"l am honored to meet the legendary son of the powerful InuTaisho," she said, her voice low and gentle. Sesshoumaru supposed that, had the opportunity been provided, this female would have proven that she was worthy of marriage to a demon of his statue. Her father would have seen to it that she was educated in all respects, and he would never have offered her as a candidate unless she was born of the purest of blood. She would make a decent mate and perhaps provide him with a strong heir. Still, the thought of involving himself in this particular cobweb of problems left a bitter taste in his mouth. He considered her profile for a moment, allowing himself no more time than that to affirm his decision to avoid this particular responsibility for at least another century.

"Your offer has been considered," Sesshoumaru said with a brief inclination of his head. "For now, it will be declined." He turned on his heel and began to walk away.

"Please wait, Lord Sesshoumaru!" Lord Seyare rushed to say. But with his previous words and intentions spoken, Sesshoumaru did _not_ wait. Nor did he respond to any further missives from the other Lords. The restlessness within him continued to build as he made preparations to depart until it grew to be a dull roar in his ears. His mood worsened with every minute he had to waste in the palace.

By the time he was finally able to leave Izumo, he nearly killed a messenger simply for delaying him. The only thing that stopped him was that the creature wore the West's colors on his robes. The moment that Sesshoumaru took the paper from him, he bowed and - shaking and trembling - scurried away. Sesshoumaru recognized the magical seal on the envelope. The missive was from Susumu - a single piece of paper containing no more than a few sentences rather than the full report he was expecting. It was long overdue; so long, in fact, that Sesshoumaru had to stifle a brief impulse to simply ignore it on principle.

 _The Relegation is on the move_ \- the letter said. _In one week, they will arrive at the third stone in Harima. There is reason to believe that the leader is with this group and that another rides with them who will either assist him or hinder him._ Below that was an intricately drawn map with a location marker. The letter ended with: _Now may be the opportune moment to strike._

Sesshoumaru couldn't explain why, but the moment he read that sentence, a picture of the child that had been traveling with him flashed in his mind. Ridiculous, of course. She was likely dead.

What did this mean, then? Susumu's vague letter only served to aggravate his already short fuse. Jaken would have provided him with a more detailed report. So where was _his_ contribution? Instinct warned him that something was amiss. This was precisely why he abhorred relying on others to carry out tasks of such importance. Crumpling the letter and melting the parchment with his venom, he took to the skies, his destination the place that Susumu had marked on his map.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So here I am, almost one year after my last update. One novel and a lot of coursework later, here I am to tie up some loose ends to clean up and finish my incomplete works. "Limerance" is my baby. It is what I always hoped "My Hatred, My Obsession" would be. Now, with a lot more experience under my belt, I believe that I can finally do it justice and give my readers the full story.
> 
> All chapters prior to this one have been edited and adjusted for better flow. Everything from here on out is new content.
> 
> I hope to hear from both my old readers and to see some new readers join the adventure. Reviews really help inspire me to keep working, and since this project is rather large and time-consuming, knowing that you guys are enjoying the read would be quite a booster to my stamina.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

**.**

**.**

**Limerance**

**Chapter 8**

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* * *

Kagome sat cross-legged on her cot, cradling her bleeding severed hand and clenching her teeth together to keep from screaming. Her body rocked back and forth, large beads of cold sweat slipping down the sides of her face. She shuddered when the sticky warm blood dripped down the side of her clothes to pool on the blankets. A roaring filled her ears as her heart beat a loud and frantic rhythm against her ear drums. Dizziness assailed her; she could hardly breathe past the clammy hands of terror that wrapped like pitch black shadows around her neck.

 _A dream...only a dream...it was just a dream,_ she chanted to herself. _A nightmare!_

But, she couldn't force herself to look down at her arm to confirm it.

Behind her eyelids, images flashed like erratic bolts of lightning.

An ogre. A chase. A frantic dash for safety. Claws ripping her apart. The stench of blood and venom.

_It was just a dream! Kagome, get a hold of yourself!_

Her jaw locked in place, teeth grinding against each other. Panicked eyes darted from corner to corner of the inside of her pavilion, as though waiting for a giant lumbering monster to burst through the dark brown walls at any moment. When nothing happened, her breaths began to even out. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of horse and sweat.

The other cot in the pavilion - Katashi's - was empty. No doubt he'd gone on patrol earlier than planned to inspect the camp. Kagome let out a shaky breath. Had he been here, things would have been worse. He took any and every opportunity to emphasize that her dreams were nothing more than a result of a trauma. Midori hated her for calling him a liar, but Kagome knew better than to believe everything he said.

Too slowly, events of the previous days came back to her: the hard riding, Katashi's relentless pace across the countryside, and her exhausted collapse to bed the night before. He'd made good on his promise to take her to see the Artifact, though his frustration with her insistence was evident. He kept her within arm's reach at all times, always under his control and within his sight.

_It's more than a trauma...this is different. This is something **real**._

Her hand pulsed with pain. Kagome's shoulders tensed. She could have sworn she felt torn and mangled flesh when she ran her fingertips over the appendage. Biting her lip, she suppressed a terrified whimper.

 _It_ _'s fine,_ her logic soothed again. There was no ogre. No huge slimy teeth. No venom-tipped claws tearing through her body with relentless savagery.

 _Just a nightmare_ , she promised herself, her shoulders shaking. Her throat constricting, she finally gathered the courage to look down at her throbbing hand, relieved to find it still there, unharmed.

Thank the gods.

No ogre. No teeth. No bloodied stump in place of an arm.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she buried her face in her hands. How much longer would these nightmares persist? She wasn't sure if seeing the Artifact would change anything for her, or if it would make these nightmares better or worse. Any amount of truth would be better than none. As it was, she felt broken, like there was something missing inside of her very soul. Midori or Kagome? Kagome or Midori? Which was real and which was a result of confusion?

She cursed, wiping sweat off her face with a corner of her sleeve.

The sooner they reached the stone, the better.

The caravan and its fifty armed samurai escort was making good time. Katashi assured his men they were within a week of the temple in the western corner of Harima. The soldiers rejoiced; Kagome wanted to cry. Another week? She wasn't sure she could survive the grueling travel for much longer. Inside her mind, Midori chided her for being so stubborn, for she'd tried to warn Kagome of how difficult traveling with hardened soldiers would be.

 _I need to keep it together_ , Kagome scolded herself. _This is what I wanted, isn_ _'t it? Whatever happens when I see the stone, I'll accept it. If Kagome really is a figment of my imagination, I'll become Midori and stay with Katashi like he wants. If not..._

Determined to regain her composure, she stood up, pulled her warmer black haori over her clothes, and stepped outside. Somehow, the grass felt amazing on her bare feet. She always felt better when she could feel the ground under her, as though nature surrounded her and protected her. It was cold, but Kagome gave it little thought. She was more intent on clearing her head so she could look presentable in the morning.

Her body ached everywhere, legs shaking even at a slow walk. Midori suggested she see Katashi and ask him to slow down. Kagome thought the idea ridiculous. She wasn't about to prove him right by appearing like a weakling half way through the journey. Instead, she wandered around the camp, noting how all the fires had gone out. It was still the middle of the night, and the next change of guard wouldn't happen until morning. Katashi had ordered not to restart the fires until then to avoid giving away their position to potential enemies or demons prowling the area.

He was a paranoid man.

Despite her reluctance to think about her recent nightmare, Kagome found she couldn't quite rid herself of it. She clutched at her hand, recalling how different this particular dream was. The ogre was, as always present, chasing her past the stone into the forest and towards the cliffs. This time, however, there were others in the dream, too. Specifically, two men with long shining silver hair and eyes the color of shimmering amber.

Like statues, they stood at the cliff's edge, neither helping nor hindering. From their looks, she could tell they weren't human. One had a pair of animal ears atop his head and both had elongated claws and slitted cat-like pupils. Their mixture of unmarred pale skin, strange markings, and colorations should have frightened her. These were clearly demons, just like the ogre hunting her. Yet, for reasons she couldn't fathom, the two of them looked striking and beautiful, like paintings out of a storybook.

 _Their eyes looked soft and kind,_ Midori whispered in Kagome's thoughts. For once, they agreed on something. Rather than giving off a fierce and intimidating presence, their figures were a comforting sight. Not even her fear of the ogre could block out that particular emotion.

But who were they?

 _More figments and mysteries,_ Midori insisted. _I don_ _'t want to think about that frightening dream anymore. Where is Lord Katashi? We should find him. He'll protect us._

Kagome shook her head to get Midori's small timid voice out of her mind. If she really _was_ Midori, then was the princess such a coward? Kagome refused to believe that her past self — and the voice still trying to break through — was such a soft-hearted and passive girl. Right now, she didn't have time to be a scardey-cat, especially not while Katashi tried to thwart her every attempt to discover her true origins.

Kagome was lost so deep in thought about her betrothed's paranoia and controlling personality that when she heard his voice, she thought she might have imagined it. Glancing up, she noticed that she'd somehow walked over to the second pavilion in camp, one reserved for Ryuichi, Katashi's right-hand man, and his two second officers. A light flickered within, and as she stepped closer, she heard low voices speaking.

"Katashi, you understand the danger of this quest, right?" Ryuichi's scratchy baritone asked. "You know every man here would die for you, but are you really prepared for what might happen?"

"Yes," Katashi answered flatly.

 _We shouldn_ _'t be eavesdropping like this! Lord Katashi will be furious if he finds out!_

Despite Midori's warning, Kagome crouched down behind a nearby crate of supplies, straining to hear what was being said.

"What if it doesn't go like you planned it to?" Ryuichi asked. "What if the vessel is corrupted and turns on us?"

"That won't happen."

"You're not a god, you know. You can't predict the future."

"What would you have me do, Ryuichi? If we don't claim this power for the Relegation now, we may as well have lost the war already." A beat. "Do you presume to question my judgment?"

"Not at all. Just that…you seem awfully attached to her."

_Her? The vessel is a person?_

_"_ Admit it. You are overprotective. Anyone who isn't blind can see it."

"Don't be a fool. Midori is nothing more than a tool to accomplish our goals."

"See? You even gave her a name. Do you usually do that for pigs you keep as livestock?"

Kagome reeled back, feeling the ground tipping and swaying beneath her. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth, afraid she'd make a sound in her shock and panic.

"She needed to have a world around her, something tangible to keep her obedient and calm. Otherwise, she would have run away, and we would have lost our link to the Artifacts."

"You're not being honest with yourself, Katashi. I see the way you act around the girl. Is it because she looks so much like _her_?"

"She is a means to an end. I will protect her body until it becomes the vessel. After that, her consciousness will vanish and she will obey all of my commands. She will become my weapon to wield against our enemies."

"That's what the scrolls say, but what if it doesn't work like that? She could die, too."

"She won't. She will survive."

"And we have another problem. You've got one of the fragments, which means the artifacts are already partially corrupted. How do you plan to complete the soul if you've already taken part of it for yourself?"

"The fragment I have is of no consequence. The vessel can survive without one, though to be missing any more will eventually…"

Unable to hear any more, Kagome backed away from the pavilion, her feet so numb she hardly felt the prickling of nettles and pine needles crunching into the bare soles of her feet. Tears streamed down her face. She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep silent.

Impossible. She'd suspected that Katashi wasn't telling her everything about her life as Midori. But to think that _all_ of it was a lie? Her head spun. She thought she might be sick.

Stumbling towards her and Katashi's pavilion, she fell onto her cot and pulled the blanket up and over her head. Her gut clenched and she leaned foward, heaving without vomiting until she saw stars. Midori's voice screamed and shouted, making excuses, trying to justify what Katashi was doing. Kagome ignored her, slapping her hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut.

Midori was a lie. She was fake, nothing more than a selfish man's story to keep her in line. But, if that was true, then…

Whose voice had Kagome been hearing this entire time? Who was she, really, if not a lost princess pulled into a series of unfortunate events? What did this mean for her? For months, she'd stared into the mirror and tried to _will_ Midori into existence. Had she made up her softness? Her kindness? Her trusting nature? Was all of that a lie, too?

If so, then who was Higurashi Kagome? The girl in her dreams, standing proud and brave against the tide — who was that? With a bow and arrow, she faced down demons and darkness. She was a beacon of courage.

_The complete opposite of me._

Tears tasted salty when spiced with self-loathing. Strange. She'd never shed tears quite like this. Katashi had made certain to make her life as his "Midori" free of anything that might distress her needlessly. For months, she'd allowed it. For months, she was happy to float in her bubble of ignorance, trusting complete and utter strangers to move her like a pawn in their game.

Stranger.

That word, when coupled with Katashi's face — when applied to every single face she'd come to know and trust — swelled into a towering colossal shadow that swept over her and left her feeling cold and numb inside.

There had never been a Midori. All those people had known it, yet they'd lied to her every single day. The servants she smiled with, the men and women claiming to be her allies, and even those calling themselves family — all lies!

"Oh god," Kagome wheezed, her teeth chattering. "Oh god…what do I do?"

Katashi would be back soon. Could she keep pretending that nothing had changed? Could she hide the disgust and terror from him when he spoke to her and touched her? And what, then? They would go to the Artifact, and _what then?_ What would happen to her there?

As though he spoke right next to her ear, Katashi's voice sandpapered down her skin like the dry grating scales of a cold snake.

… _her consciousness will vanish and she will obey all of my commands_ …

So, he planned to sacrifice her then use her like a sword in battle? She was a person, not a tool! Couldn't he see that? Couldn't any of these people see that? Surely they knew what would happen. Surely they knew what Katashi planned. Yet none of them had spoken out against him. None of them had done anything to stop him!

 _Her consciousness will vanish_ _…_

Like hell it would!

There may have never been a weak-willed, naive, and trusting Midori, but there sure as hell was a Higurashi Kagome, and she was _not_ going to let some psycho do whatever he wanted with her body and her mind.

Snapping up and throwing the blanket aside, Kagome remembered the terror of feeling helpless as the ogre was chasing her towards the cliffs in her nightmares. She remembered the desperation to fight and live no matter the terrible odds thrown against her. She'd scrambled for life that day, had paid for it with her body and part of her mind. Now, she wasn't about to let _anyone_ take it from her.

Pursing her lips, she tugged on her wool socks and straw sandals then pulled her traveling pack out from under her cot. In minutes, she emptied it of everything except a change of clothes and some wrapped food left over from their meal the night before. As she pulled it over her shoulders and stepped outside, she looked towards the center of the camp, where most soldiers left their spare weapons and armor out while patrolling.

If she was going to get through this, she would need a weapon to defend herself. Katashi had told her a hundred times over that princesses didn't wield bows and arrows. Now that she knew it was a lie, Kagome was confident that she _had_ and _would_ wield it. The decision gave her clarity, sending a rush of adrenaline sparking to her hands and feet.

This was going to be dangerous. If she was discovered, she had no idea what Katashi might do. Before, she was prepared for a light scolding and a slap on the wrist. But, now?

Midori flailed inside her, throwing out protest after protest with every step Kagome took towards the weapon racks in the middle of the camp. Doubts, fears, worries, and a stubborn insistence that Katashi was just lying to Ryuichi about his feelings to protect his reputation. But, what did that matter? Nothing could change the fact that her life as she currently knew it was a complete sham.

 _Stop this!_ \- Midori begged. _This is insanity. What can you possibly do by yourself? You aren_ _'t a warrior. You can hardly ride a horse without falling off, and you want to go traipsing through a plague-ridden province without any kind of escort?_

Kagome paused. That part was true. If she was going to make it to the Artifact before Katashi's company of soldiers, she would need a proper map. Scouts usually carried them. She'd seen the men using them for reference when they thought Katashi wasn't looking, wondering — like her — how much farther they had to go before they reached their destination. For now, she had to keep moving. There wasn't much time before sunrise. She needed to grab a weapon, get her hands on a horse, and grab a decent head start before the soldiers began waking.

She weaved between tents, surprising herself with her agility as she ducked under pole ropes, hopped over errant obstacles, and moved in a deft crouch towards the weapon racks. Fortunately, the patrol was small during these hours of the morning, and in order to have the strength to march the next day, men were taking turns grabbing small naps to keep up their strength.

One such man sat on the ground with his back to the weapon racks, leaning against a supply tent with his head bobbing up and down as he fought sleep. Occasionally, he would tip a little to the side then shake himself awake. Kagome was about to head in his direction when another man stepped out of the shadows and walked up to him.

"Fallin' asleep _again_ , Higen? You just had your break."

"I'm fine," the man countered, rubbing his palm against his nose.

"You know what will happen if Lord Katashi finds you asleep at your post," the first man said, his tone grim. "Seppuku for dishonoring the Relegation."

Kagome's heart skipped a beat. Surely the man was exaggerating.

"That's why I won't fall asleep."

"Right, well…" The first man scratched the back of his head, adjusting the swords on his hip. "Nashi and I are gonna go make another round to the south end of camp. Can you hold up till we get back?"

"Yeah, I got it. Just go. Faster you leave, faster I can take my break."

The first man didn't look pleased, but he vanished back into the darkness with a curt nod. Kagome didn't hesitate. As soon as he disappeared, she tiptoed to the supply tent and squeezed behind a pile of crates. Behind the dark brown canvas, she heard the man called Higen muttering to himself. Afraid to make any noise in case he was, indeed, paying attention to his surroundings, she waited.

It took a few minutes before she heard a _thud_ followed by light snoring. She smiled. Looks like luck really was on her side. She took a few moments to pilfer a few parcels with medical supplies and bandages, stuffing them into her pack, before padding out of the tent and sneaking towards Higen. By his uniform, she recognized him as a scout. Though he was sound asleep, drool dripping down the side of his face into the dirt, she was still wary as she reached out and gently tugged his satchel towards her. It most likely contained a map, but she didn't have the time to make sure.

Turning back to the weapon racks, she plucked a bow and a quiver of arrows from the set of ranged weaponry then began to make her way to the western part of camp, where the horses were kept. She prayed she could make it in time. Already, the darkness around her was thinning. Those men assigned to care for the animals usually woke up earlier than the rest of the company to prepare the beasts for travel. As she snuck between their tents, she could hear them mumbling and complaining to each other about the chill of the morning.

She'd run out of time. If she didn't take a horse and leave now, she wouldn't have a head start at all.

During the week of travel through Harima, Kagome hadn't paid attention to what horse she rode from one day to the next. She had no assigned mount and didn't have a chance to get too attached to any one in particular. She was certain that she'd never ridden a single horse more than once, yet the moment she stepped into view of the animals tied to their respective posts, one horse in particular pricked up its ears and looked at her with surprising familiarity.

She, in turn, recognized it immediately as well.

It was Katashi's war horse, a stunning brown and black stallion which was rumored to have a nasty disposition in the hands of anyone but the General. She crept up to him, gasping when he nuzzled her side and sniffed at her pack. Reaching into it, she pulled out a pear and let him eat it from her hand. Unsurprisingly, he was already tacked and saddled. Katashi's order, no doubt, in case he had to ride out earlier than the rest of the company. Since Kagome had no idea how to saddle a horse and didn't have time to search for where such supplies were being stored, she decided that this would be her ticket out of camp.

Unless it decided to stop being sweet and cooperative when she mounted it. But what choice did she have, really? Beggars like her couldn't be choosers. After the horse gave her one more affectionate nuzzle and a small playful nip of her braid, Kagome's mind was made up. She examined the creature, gauging the consequences of what she was about to do.

 _You_ _'re going to regret this,_ Midori warned her.

Kagome frowned. She might regret the hardships ahead and the manner of her escape, but she could never regret taking the chance to obtain freedom, no matter the cost.


	10. Chapter 9

 

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"Kagome," Inuyasha gasped, shooting up so quickly he nearly fell off the branch he'd dozed off on. The name echoed in his mind, burning through his veins and nerves like acid. He choked, struggling to breathe for a moment as he composed himself. His claws dug into the collar of his fire rat robe as though searching for an anchor to steady himself in the storm of emotion that washed over him. His teeth ground together and a sound escaped him that resembled a strangled moan of pain.

His nightmare flashed behind his eyelids, playing back the most horrible moments over and over like one of those "movies" Kagome had taken him to see in her time. His breathing came in harsh pants, body paralyzed with the horror of reliving the worst day of his life. Helpless and petrified, he saw again and again Kagome walking to the Jewel's altar, saw her raise her hands and make the wish that took her from him. His hands convulsed. The memory of tearing grass and dirt digging under his claws as he sat in front of the fire after her disappearance felt as real as the scratchy bark beneath his feet.

It took time, but eventually, the nightmare dissipated, leaving him a shuddering trembling mess. His hand shaking, he pulled something out from the inside of his clothes. A square bit of cloth with his name stitched on the side. Kagome called it a "handkerchief". In their first year of marriage, she'd made him one out of cotton, taking time to sew his name into it. He would have smiled at the memory of her clumsiness with a needle, but remembering her these days only served to rub salt into his wounds.

Bringing the cloth to his nose, he took a deep breath, allowing the familiar scent to wash over him and neutralize the agony inside his heart.

Kagome.

For a moment, it was enough to calm him. Until he realized that the scent was fading. He cursed, stuffing the object back into his robes. Four months. Had it only been that long? Such a short amount of time, yet her scent was nearly gone from everything in their home. Their futon, their pillows, her clothes, everything. What once was their sanctuary, their small piece of happiness in this world, was now nothing but four walls and a lifeless fire pit. Staying there, breathing the stale air, seeing her in every corner, was impossible. Everywhere he turned, signs of their life together slapped him in the face until the bruises were too much to take.

He was glad he'd made the decision to leave it all behind and travel the land alone for a while. Of course, there were those who probably waited for him to return, but he couldn't. Not yet. Saying  _her_  name was enough to send him to his knees in agony. If he came back and saw what awaited back in Kaede's village, he was sure he'd lose his mind. Subconsciously, his fingers toyed with the beads of his rosary. What he wouldn't give to hear her voice just one more time, even if it meant a solid impact with the ground.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in several days. His last meal had been some soup in the village he'd helped rid of persistent demons. He hadn't been able to taste any of it. Lately, food turned to dry sand in his mouth. The sun irritated him with its brightness. He hated how nature — how life everywhere — moved on without her while he could not. At times, he wished he'd never met her, but thinking of what his life might have become without her frightened him. Would he have lived out the rest of his unnaturally long life alone, not trusting anyone, never opening his heart and meeting others who could give meaning to his existence?

Sounds caught his attention. Peering down to the ground below, he saw a young woman surrounded by three little boys making their way through the main path of the forest. They laughed as they walked, their faces so bright that Inuyasha cringed. He smelled apples. The woman was carrying a basket full of them. Her belly was swollen with child. A family. He grimaced. Just the word made him want to vomit.

"Now, now," the woman cooed to the boys. "Just wait a little longer. When we come home, I'll make you a treat."

"But, Mama, I'm hungry now," one of the children whined, hopping up and down in an effort to reach the basket.

"You must learn patience, my darling. Sometimes, it's better to wait than to take something right away."

The woman looked nothing like his Kagome, but something about her words brought back memories of her. Maybe it was her gentleness. Or maybe it was the way she softened her voice with the children. Whatever it was, he wanted nothing more to do with it. Without a sound, he moved back and away, springing between branches then landing on the ground and breaking into a run.

Night or day, time no longer mattered. He would run as fast and as far as his feet would carry him. If only the ties that bound him to Kaede's village could disappear, he would be free to roam as he had once been. Once. Before he met Kikyo. Before all was set in motion to change his destiny forever.

 _Fuck all of this!_ — He screamed in his mind as he ran. Trees whizzed by, different scents and sounds going unnoticed. Inside, his demon rage began to stir, a response to the suffocating sense of responsibility that he desperately wanted to toss aside. In that moment, he made another decision. He would return to Kaede's village and cut all ties there once and for all. No matter what anyone said or did, nothing would stop him from breaking his chains and walking away from everything and anything that reminded him of  _her_.

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"Has there been any news, Lady Kaede?" Sango asked, brushing her fingers through the black tresses of the little girl in front of her. The child fumbled with a set of toy blocks, no doubt lost in her own world.

"I couldn't say…he went to the southern villages to see about a demon infestation there. I heard rumors that he succeeded, but nothing more."

"It's been nearly three weeks," Miroku spoke up from the back of Kaede's hut. Using a large flat rod of metal, he tended the fire, keeping out the evening chill. Beside him, a pair of twin girls wrestled on the floor, their little brother hiding behind his father's thick violet robes. "I had a feeling this was the case. We should look for him."

"He will come back when he is ready," Kaede said softly. Her weathered old hands mashed a bundle of herbs together in a ceramic mortar, tense and stiff, bony white knuckles pressing up against skin spotted with age. Kaede's posture was rigid. So, the old priestess worried about him, too.

"He doesn't have that luxury," Miroku answered, his voice flat. Sango glanced at him, surprised to hear him angry. Her gentle-tempered husband rarely showed such open displeasure about his friends. Typically, he was content to accept their decisions as their own without judging them. This time, however, he had good reason to be upset.

"Miroku…"

"No, Sango. This isn't fair to anyone." His jaw clenched, fingers tightening their grip on the poker in his hand. Suddenly, he shoved it sharply into the fire pit, releasing a cloud of glowing orange sparks. They fluttered in the air, fighting for survival, but the cold soon turned them to dead ash. Some vanished. Some fell to the ground, unmoving.

"We knew something like this might happen," Sango offered.

"No. Inuyasha's behavior is irrational. Lady Kagome made the correct decision. We all miss her terribly, and we are all hurting over what happened, but…"

Sango's hands stilled. "We can't expect him to recover so soon. It's only been a few months."

"And what of things here?" The monk demanded. "He isn't a child. He can't just run away from everything and abandon his responsibilities here." He glared at his wife. "Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not," she denied in a soft voice. The child in front of her stopped playing with her blocks. Sango rushed to continue petting her head, even offered to braid her thick long hair into her favorite styles. The girl shrugged, and when the child turned around to face her, Sango's breath hitched in her throat. In that moment, her heart went out to Inuyasha, for who could look into this little girl's ocean blue eyes and not remember…

"Sango," Miroku cut into her thoughts. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to look for him. This cannot continue."

"I'll go with you, then."

"No. You should stay here with the children. I'll take Kirara."

Sango looked down when the child pulled on her kimono sleeve.

"When is Father coming back?" She asked, her eyes a picture of loneliness and sadness. "Does he not like me anymore?"

For a moment, Sango struggled to come up with another lie. They'd been telling the girl falsehoods one after another since Inuyasha's disappearance. Somehow, lying to her again felt wrong, especially when Sango had a hunch that the little girl knew what they were doing. Worrying at her lower lip, Sango reached out and cupped the girl's face, tracing the markings there. A single blue stripe on each cheek, the only feature that marked her as more than human.

"Chiharu…the truth is that your father misses your mother terribly. He is hurting, and…"

"When he looks at me, Father thinks about Mother…"

"Yes," Sango nodded. Chiharu's intuition was growing to be as sharp as her mother's.

"I know," the child said. "It's because it's all my fault."

Sango blinked, not understanding. "What is, dear?"

"That Mother is gone. It's my fault."

"Why would you say that?" Sango rushed to contradict her. She pulled the little girl closer. "None of this is your fault. Your mother made a decision to destroy the Jewel for all of us. She gave her life for a selfless cause."

Chiharu didn't say anything in response to that, just kept looking at her adopted aunt with a harrowed countenance. The emotion dug deep, draining the life from Chiharu's eyes until they looked hollow. For the first time in years, Sango wanted to round on Inuyasha and knock some sense back into him. He was always reckless, and they'd spent enough time with him to know how much Kagome meant to him. But, Miroku was right. What was he thinking, leaving his daughter alone like this? He may have lost his wife, but Chiharu had lost a  _mother_. Would she now lose a father, too?

But then she imagined what she might do if Miroku was taken from her, and all of her anger faded, leaving a pulsing pain behind. With Chiharu staring at her with such distress, Sango could no longer deny her own heartache. She and Miroku had been so busy trying to help Inuyasha through his loss that neither of them had had a proper chance to grieve themselves. Kagome was just as important to them as she was to their friend. They'd lost a sister. No, more than that. They'd lost the person that was the heart of their bonds and the reason why they could continue to lead a peaceful life after all they'd suffered.

"Maybe Father won't come back at all," Chiharu whispered. Sango expected her to cry; she might have preferred it to the despair in the girl's eyes. But only silence followed her dark words.

"Your father will return," Kaede reassured her. "Just be patient, child."

Miroku stood up and was about to say something when the bead curtain at the entrance of Kaede's hut clacked and hissed as a rough hand shoved it aside. A figure stepped inside, looking worn and ragged, his clothes covered in dead leaves, dirt, and gashes as though a beast had clawed it all over. His eyes held a feverish light, dark circles forming shadows under them. Face pale and drawn, he looked worse than Sango had ever seen him, even at the worst of times. A black cloud hung over him, a sort of wild untamed aura that felt dangerous.

"Inuyasha," Sango said, her voice shaky. This was the last thing she expected to see, and judging by the looks on everyone's faces, her friends shared her surprise. "You've returned."

"Just to get some things," he muttered. "Hey, Kaede. I need some of that special salve you used to make for…Kag- " he choked on the name, as though someone stabbed him directly in the stomach. "When  _she_ went to purify the other villages."

Kaede's eyebrows dipped low. "What use could you have for such a thing?"

"Stop askin' questions and just give it to me," Inuyasha snapped. His eyes narrowed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling like ruined linen. "Doesn't matter why I need it. I just do."

"Won't you stay awhile? You look terrible. Are you injured?"

"I'm fine. Now, hurry up. I want to get out of here."

"Inuyasha," Miroku spoke up, his voice hard and low. "Aren't you forgetting something?" He stepped towards the hanyou, his face a neutral mask. Sango knew better. Inside, he was livid. She'd learned to read his subtle body language, and right now, she was fairly certain that the monk was barely restraining himself from lashing out at his friend.

"No," Inuyasha replied. "I'm not forgetting anything. Back off, Miroku." The hanyou's hand slipped to Tetsusaiga's hilt.

"I will  _not."_

With his silver hair a tangled mess, his eyes blazing with a feral light, and his cheekbones coloring with faint blue stripes, Sango knew this wouldn't end well.

"Miroku…" she tried.

" _No_. This needs to stop now. Inuyasha, Chiharu is waiting for you. She needs her father. You should have heard her today. She thinks Lady Kagome's death is her fault —"

"It is," Inuyasha said curtly.

" _What?"_  It was Sango's turn to stand up, shock now replaced by a quickly growing fury. "How can you say that?"

"Doesn't matter. I don't have time for this shit. Kaede, are you gonna give me that salve or no?"

"Inuyasha," the old priestess began, "…perhaps you should —"

"I'm done here."

Miroku's hand whipped out and latched on to Inuyasha's sleeve. "Just wait a minute!"

"Let go, monk. We both know who will win this fight." The air suddenly turned hot, swirling with a nauseating dark presence. Inuyasha's youki swelled and filled the room, oppressive and searing. "Let. Go."

Miroku seemed to obey on instinct. In the next second, Inuyasha vanished. Sango felt a breeze by her ankles and looked down to find Chiharu had disappeared as well.

"What do we do?" Sango asked.

"We wait," Kaede answered, her hands resuming their task. "It is all we  _can_ do."

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Inuyasha was about to cross the border between the village and the forest that held his namesake when a small shrill voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Father!"

The plea ripped through him like a frigid tidal wave. That word might as well have been Tetsusaiga cutting straight into his heart.

But, he didn't turn. Couldn't. If he did, he was sure he wouldn't be able to leave again.

"Father, please wait!"

Small bare feet slapped the ground behind him. Chiharu's scent drifted to him on the wind — unique and pure, just like  _hers_. Steadying his resolve, he clenched his hands into fists by his side.

"Go home, Chiharu," he ground out.

"I want to go with you!" The girl shouted. She stopped just short of touching him. He could smell her fear and anguish. "Please don't leave me again. I miss you. And Mother. I…"

"Go home. Stay with Sango and Miroku. You'll be safe."

"You aren't coming back," she said, her voice trembling. A moment of silence. Then sniffling and small gasps of air. Inuyasha stilled. He'd never seen his daughter cry, not even when she was no bigger than the palm of his hand. It must have taken a force of immense power to draw out her emotions to this extent. Inwardly, he cursed. When he smelled her tears for the first time, it nearly broke him. "I know you aren't coming back. I know why you hate me. It's because of Mother. Because of what she did for me."

"You…weren't supposed to hear us talking about that," Inuyasha said haltingly. "We didn't want you to know." His claws dug into his palms, drawing blood. "Not that it changes anything. I can't stay here with you. I just… _can't_."

Chiharu's small body pressed against his leg. Her arms wrapped around it, her face burying into his clothes. "Papa," she shivered. "Papa, please don't go. I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry. Please, don't go."

With each sob and shiver, Inuyasha felt his defensive walls melting until he whirled around and sank to his knees, throwing his arms around his daughter and pressing her against his chest. She continued crying, soaking the front of his haori with hot tears that burned through him to his very core. He pressed his nose into her hair, breathing deeply of her familiar scent until his own shoulders began to shake and tremble.

His fangs tore at the inside of his mouth to stop them, but the tears flowed anyway. He yearned to be stronger in this moment. He wanted to be strong for his daughter. But, he couldn't be. Not as he was, cleaved in two by the loss of the center of his world. Chiharu's pain, so like his own, hit him like a fist in his gut. How could he have left her? How could he have abandoned her?

"It's not your fault, Chiharu. It's not."

"I wish," she hiccuped, sniffling, "I wish I died instead. Then Mama would be here and you wouldn't hurt so much. Papa, I'm sorry. I wish I died instead."

"No!" He growled, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "No.  _Never_  say that again, got it? Not ever."

Her blue eyes, so like Kagome's, shredded like a demon's serrated teeth into his heart. The suffering in those familiar orbs — the tears — undid him. He saw Kagome looking at him through his daughter's features, imagined her face twisted in sorrow for the way he'd abandoned their child and was so close to doing so again. Thinking of her voice asking 'why' wrenched a sob from his throat. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulled Chiharu to him, wrapping her in a crushing embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his entire body shaking now. "I'm so sorry for everything."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still half asleep, so if I missed some typos, I apologize. If there are any, I'll be weeding them out during the day as fast as I'm able.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who continues to support this story. Your reviews mean a lot to me! If you enjoy the read, please let me know. It's really inspiring to see that you guys are having fun with this adventure :)

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Morning arrived too quickly. Creeping over the billowing clouds, the rising sun pulled Kagome from much needed sleep with unwelcome tenacity. Still wrapped in the tangled vines of slumber, she resisted the call of the day, burrowing deeper into her bedroll to keep out the cold. However, no matter how many times she closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep, she couldn't. Unwilling to part with her cozy cover just yet, she settled for recalling the details of her dreams.

Dark things, mostly. Terrible things. Demons and battles; an endless hunt for something unreachable — a jewel of some kind.

Perhaps weeks ago, the pathetic Midori would have hidden beneath her blanket, praying for the images to fade. She might have yearned to return to the familiarity of Katashi's side, choosing to be protected even if it meant sacrificing her life and freedom for a bit of safety. But, Midori was gone. Only Kagome remained now, and nightmares hardly frightened her. Where was the use in fearing the past? Intangible memories could not harm her. Only the present could do that, and only in the present would she let fear and caution to slow her journey to the truth.

For a while, she allowed herself some time to think about her dream, hoping to piece together the fragments of her real memories. This time, a new character had appeared in the tapestry — a woman who looked much like her save for the color of her eyes. Her black orbs stared deep into Kagome's soul, telling a melancholy tale of unfulfilled desires and a love lost to evil's whim. She, too, wielded a bow, though her stiff posture and raised chin attested to a certain confidence Kagome didn't feel within herself.

Who was she, and why did Kagome's heart twist with pain when she looked at her? Were they related somehow? Seeing those haunting dark eyes was like seeing her own reflection in a shattered mirror. In the murk of shifting shadows, pointing an accusing finger in Kagome's direction, the woman called her a traitor and a thief. Somehow, the Kagome of the past had taken something from her. Where the silver-haired man was concerned, Kagome's love was the source of woman's pain; her selflessness, a vexing burden. What had happened between them?

Kagome would have lost track of time had it not been for Patch's intervention. His shaggy black muzzle blocked her view of the sky right before he bumped the side of her face, urging her to get up. When she tunneled deeper into her blankets, the stallion nipped at her hair and snorted, spraying warm moist air right in her ear. Kagome let out a sound of indignation, but — reluctantly — she rolled to her feet.

In that moment, Kagome swore she had more muscle aches than she did muscles. Wincing, she glared at her horse. Patch blinked back, his expression wide-eyed and innocent. For all her aches and pains, for her exhaustion and stiffness, she blamed him. His gait was far from smooth — a trait for battle, not travel — and he possessed too much stamina. He didn't tire, even when they traveled for miles over steep hills and crossed treacherous rivers. And if  _he_  didn't tire — if he wanted to keep moving — then Kagome felt she had to match his pace.

They'd moved as swiftly as possible towards the place marked on the scout's stolen map, hardly stopping to rest. For Kagome, who had never properly ridden a horse before this journey, the days passed in endless bumping up-and-down agony. They steered clear of towns and settlements, Kagome fearing to attract too much attention. The less people saw them, the stronger the chances that Katashi wouldn't catch them. She couldn't imagine what he might do to her if he did.

Kagome looked northward. This would be her fourth day in the saddle. Four days since she'd escaped Katashi's camp; four days since she banished Midori from her thoughts. The timid princess. The coward. Out here, there was no room for her. Out here, one mistake could mean Kagome's death. Knowing Midori existed as nothing but a figment of her imagination, Kagome felt no remorse in tossing her aside like ruined clothing. In this land riddled with sickness and death, only one thing mattered: survival.

The horse nuzzled her again, and Kagome sighed, reaching into her pack and pulling out an apple. Most of its color had faded, the skin a bumpy and too-soft in some places. The fruit wasn't rotten yet, but it was getting there. Heat and moisture had taken their toll. It was one of the last remaining bits of the supplies she'd stolen from camp. Her food was running out. They needed to hurry and find the stone before it did.

"This is the last one," she warned her companion, holding the apple in her hand as Patch devoured it with loud chomps. "I've spoiled you too much, but I guess you deserve it, working so hard and all." After petting the large animal behind one of its fuzzy black ears one more time, she bent over her supplies and began to gather her things. First, her pack. Her leather tunic and breastplate were next, followed by the bow and arrows she'd pilfered from camp.

Each night before bed, she practiced shooting, using nearby trees for target practice. Getting caught in a scrap without the skills required to get out of it was the last thing Kagome needed. Fortunately, her efforts paid off. Her aim wasn't too bad, and instinct guided her when it came to posture and focus. The only thing she lacked was physical preparation: muscle strength and callouses on her fingers to keep them from bleeding and going numb after every session. Such things would come in time, she felt certain.

A movement on the horizon piqued her curiosity, resembling a circling of black shapes over a particular area. Since she planned on heading in that exact direction, Kagome mounted her horse and urged him into a light canter. The closer they moved towards the shapes in the sky, the more the vegetation of the plains thinned out until nothing but black and brown skeletons remained. Dry shrubs and crusty broken grass sprawled out around them…

…And when they reached their destination, Kagome wished they hadn't.

The black shapes turned out to be a wake of starving buzzards circling over a pile of burned lifeless bodies. Not far from the site of the fire, Kagome saw the remains of a small hamlet — still and uninhabited. It took less than a moment for her to make the connection between the two. On the bodies that weren't completely destroyed by flames, Kagome recognized all too familiar boils and plague had ravaged these men, women, and children; no doubt their relatives felt burning their bodies was the best way to prevent the spread of the Affliction.

A fruitless endeavor. Prevention was impossible. The Affliction seemed to have a will of its own, an unsettling sentience. What survivors were left after the burning of their friends and families had moved on, leaving their homes behind. Smart, considering the nature of the plague. Closing her eyes to the scene before her, Kagome grimaced and brought her hands to her face in an attempt to shield her eyes. The stench alone was enough to make her queasy, but the sight of charred flesh was worse.

Patch shifted beneath her, tossing his head as though sensing his rider's sudden distress. She held onto his solid black mane as though clinging to life, her eyes watering from the acrid smoke rising up around them. Above, the buzzards cried out in shrill greedy song, no doubt waiting for the corpses to stop smoking before descending for a much awaited feast.

The grumbling of the sky signaled impending rain. Clouds gathered, dark, grey — sinister. Patch whinnied, his head turning south and his ears pricking up. Beneath her thighs, his big body tensed. A strong wind blew through the clearing, tossing Kagome's hair about, disorienting the hungry buzzards, blowing away the fading smoke from the mountain of the dead. Howling as it passed, the cold wind and converging clouds sent her one message: a storm approached, and with it, danger.

Lightly jostling her horse's sides, Kagome drew her bow and guided Patch to the nearby hamlet. In her situation, she wasn't above searching abandoned villages for supplies to aid in her journey. She wouldn't touch the food, and she could bet the villagers had emptied their homes; chances were, she would find nothing of use. But, at least the huts would provide shelter from the coming rain and possible defense against an ambush.

Why the precaution? She wasn't sure; however, her gut instinct whispered that something wasn't right, though she couldn't see anyone — beast or man —around. Over the past few days, Kagome learned to trust her intuition. At times, its uncanny accuracy surprised her. Eyes flitting about in every direction, she searched for a threat, knowing it lurked nearby.

They entered the hamlet in slow, cautious steps. Kagome wrapped her thighs tighter around Patch's middle, unwilling to dismount until her trepidation dissipated. She balanced herself in her seat as best as she could manage, keeping an arrow nocked in her bow and another between her teeth if she needed to shoot again quickly. When they stood in the center of the hamlet and nothing happened for several minutes, Kagome dismounted and, still keeping her bow at the ready, ducked into one of the huts. One by one, she searched the empty homes, picking up small things here and there: a ceramic bowl for heating water, a small knife, more arrows for her quiver. As suspected, the residents hadn't left much of use here. Even so, she was grateful for what she could scavenge.

After completing the search of the last of the huts, a sudden stabbing sensation of dread snapped her to attention. Outside, Patch neighed and squealed, angry sounds — sounds of a struggle. Kagome drew her bow and nocked an arrow, slipping another into her mouth like before. Despite all her bravado, her body shook and trembled. As she approached the entrance and stepped outside, her mind conjured a thousand possibilities of what awaited her beyond.

When she cleared the bead curtain, she saw at least fifteen rugged human faces staring back at her, their expressions varying from dark anticipation to bloodlust. Not samurai or nobility. Their clothes were too poor. Nor were they greedy farmers looking for easy prey. These men wore black leathers over crimson hakama pants; in their hands they held gleaming swords and spinning knives. Kagome's heart sank.

Bandits.

The worst sort of peril she could have run into aside from the Affliction or Katashi himself.

"Well, well, well," one of the men chuckled. "What do we have here?"

Kagome examined his armor closely, noting its differences in quality and flair. She assumed this was the band's leader, or at least the one in charge for the time being. He eyed her with a heated look she found disgusting and licked his lips.

"It's just a girl," one of the other men said. "What's a child like this doin' with a war' horse?"

"Well, let's ask her, then," the leader smiled. "What are you doing out here all alone, little girl? Lost your parents, did'ja? Lookin' at your clothes, I'd say you're a noble, yeah?"

Her bow answered for her as she pulled it back and glared at her opponent.

"Oh ho…this one's got some fire in 'er," he grinned. "I reckon you're a bit younger than what we're used'ta, but you'll fetch a pretty price in some place or another."

The men moved in closer. Kagome didn't hesitate. Not stopping to see if she hit her target, she fired her first arrow, quickly nocked the next and fired again. Someone screamed. The sound of a body hitting the dusty ground. Her eyes caught sight of the three men holding Patch by his reigns. When the horse's eyes met hers, he flew into a rage. Kicking out first with front legs then his back ones, he knocked two men away from him. The third hung on, but not for long. Kagome's arrow hit him in the shoulder, driving him to the ground with a scream of agony.

Trusting Patch would follow, she turned and ran, hoping to use one of the huts as a temporary shield from her attackers. Three arrows gone; six remaining. She didn't have the luxury of wasting them. The ground shook as Patch cantered her way, his massive hooves kicking up a cloud of dirt and ash. He slid to a stop in front of her, waiting only long enough for her to pull herself up before launching into a full blown gallop.

Behind them, she heard the sounds of whizzing arrows. She and Patch dodged the first volley, but not the second. Two arrows embedded themselves in Patch's hind quarters and he reeled sideways. Only his training and stamina kept him galloping. Kagome clung to him for dear life, her body not strong enough to remain seated without the assistance. The saddle's horn dug into her stomach, but she refused to let go, knowing if she did so, the fall would likely cost her her life at this speed.

The bandits yelled and shouted. Hoofbeats shook the ground. Still firing in her direction, they pursued her with odd determination. What did they want with one girl? She clearly had nothing to offer in the form of money or goods. What did it matter if she got away?

Her train of thought stopped there when something hard impacted with the center of her back. As though all her muscles went lax at once, she fell forward. Her hands let go of Patch's mane; her legs of the horse's sides. She tumbled down like a lifeless rag doll. The first shock left her so paralyzed and dazed that she hardly felt herself hit the ground. Something snapped against her. An arrow, she realized. One of the bandits had shot her.

She rolled for what seemed an eternity, finally coming to rest among a clump of spiny bushes. Their scraggly branches scratched and pierced at her skin. Her face and mouth covered in sand and dirt, she coughed and reached back, trying to feel for the arrow. No pain. Somehow, her breastplate had taken the damage for her. She tried to get to her knees. The ground tilted and swayed beneath her. Something dripped down her forehead and stung her eyes.

Blood.

The ground shook. She didn't have a chance to wonder how she'd survived the fall from her horse. Before she could do anything else, she was completely surrounded. Riders formed a circle around her, laughing and throwing curses at her while keeping her still with sharp spears pointed at her throat and back. In the gaps between horses, she saw Patch lying on the ground some distance away, arrows sticking out from his legs and chest. He was still. Unmoving.

Raw pain burned through her. She glared up at the man with fancy armor and knocked his spear away from her cheek. The sharpened metal cut at her forearm, the pain registering somewhere very very far away. His eyes widened before a loud guffaw rumbled through his chest. The other men joined in. She wanted to scream for them to stop, but her voice wouldn't come out. She looked between the riders again; saw Patch on the ground.

Her anger intensified.

"What do you want with me?" she growled up at the leader.

He stopped laughing and looked at her. His dark eyes narrowed, shaggy shoulder-length hair falling forward to frame a grizzled face with a burn scar stretching from his temple to his neck.

"Little girls shouldn't go around pickin' fights."

"You threatened me in the village," she bit out. "I was hardly going to let you have the chance to attack me first."

"You injured two of my boys," he said. "That deserves some punishment, dont'ya think?"

"If you cared about your men, you wouldn't run around robbing people and assaulting innocents," she snapped back, raising her voice. "You're nothing but scum!"

The leader's smile vanished. He dismounted and moved towards her, drawing his sword. When he stood close enough, he pushed the tip of his blade up against her neck, forcing her to raise her chin and properly meet his eyes.

"You've got quite a dirty little mouth, don't ya? I don't care how young you are. We've all killed our share of women and children. High and mighty rich asses like you, too. Damned nobles," he spat. "Always thinkin' you're better than the lot of us. I'm warnin' you now. One more word out of you,  _princess_ , and I'll cut you in half."

He meant it. The sword rasping at her throat didn't shake or flounder. Kagome squished down a wave of panic.

"Just try it," she hissed, reaching into her belt and pulling out her knife. "I'll fight you, and I promise I'll add one or two more scars to that ugly face of yours before the end."

It was a bluff. Kagome prayed he wouldn't see right through it. Something shifted in the man's expression. A furrow cleaved his weathered brow.

"Come 'ere," he barked, grabbing her by the front of her tunic and pulling her up until their faces almost touched. She raised her hand to stab him, but he caught her wrist, easily holding her back. He suddenly stared at her like a man possessed.

"Blue eyes," he said. "Called you a princess as a joke, but…under all that dirt…it can't be…" he paused, then turned to one of the other soldiers. "Get a bag on 'er and bring 'er to the den. No one touches 'er, got it? This might be our lucky day, boys."

Three other men dismounted. Someone grabbed her arms from behind, pulling her from the leader and twisting her wrist until the knife fell from her hand and clattered to the ground. She screamed and kicked out with her legs, wriggling until her vision went dark. Something smelling like a foul bog covered her face. Scratchy wool and linen. She struggled to see through the tiny gaps in the fabric. They'd put some kind of sack over her head.

Refusing to give up, she continued kicking, elbowing, and writhing even when she felt herself being lifted into the air. A strong hit to her stomach made her legs go weak. Blood rushed to her head. She smelled horse. Had they thrown her over a saddle?

"Tie 'er to the horn. Make sure she doesn't fall off. I want 'er in one piece when we get back."

* * *

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* * *

Mid-flight, Sesshoumaru paused. The smell of old death and seared flesh caught his attention first, but it was a familiar sweetness in the air that made him stop completely and make the decision to land in the middle of an abandoned human village below. His servant, Jakken, followed him down, passively questioning his master's intentions. As was common, Sesshoumaru let his scratchy high-pitched voice fade into the ambience of nature, concentrating his attention on more pressing matters.

Standing still as stone, he let the wind carry a wealth of information to him. It circled, dipped, and rose, sending wave upon wave of smells and sounds careening past him. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. There it was again. The special scent — the unique purity — that so reminded him of something long lost. Even knowing the impossibility of such a theory, he couldn't help but believe, for a moment, that what he smelled was  _her_.

Almost four months now had passed since the incident with the stone. Even after a lengthy search and investigation, he still had no answers about where he'd vanished to for three whole months or where the child had gone. He wasn't sure why he needed to know if she was truly dead, only that the mystery of it all snagged his attention more often than was appropriate for someone of his kind.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," Jakken called from behind him. "It seems this place was another victim to the sickness." The toad made a sound of disgust. "Humans really are filthy, aren't they?"

Sesshoumaru looked around the deserted village, walking at a steady unhurried gate through its empty streets. Just a small distance away, he saw buzzards picking at burned carcasses, rending skin and muscle with their razor sharp blood-covered beaks. He paused when his foot caught on something solid. Looking down, he blinked when he saw that it was the body of a small child. Long black hair spilled over her battered body. Unlike the others, she had not been thrown into the fire. A survivor? Dead of hunger or exposure? He turned to move on when a thought stopped him. He looked back at the lifeless creature, feeling a pressure build in his chest.

With trepidation, he examined her features: long hair the color of a raven's wing; pale skin; a tattered yukata. Moving back, he slipped the front of his foot under the thing's body and nudged it over, flipping it onto its back. A small gaunt face, so white that it bordered on green, contorted into a final expression of suffering. Dark almond shaped eyes stared sightlessly back at him while petite hands clutched at the carved figurine of a bear.

Not her.

Not even close.

Irritated at the relief flooding him at such a realization, Sesshoumaru continued his inspection of the village. Moving from hut to hut, noting strange tracks of shuffling horses mixed with human footprints, and scenting the distinct smell of human blood and heat-baked leather, the demon lord wondered what had happened here. The Affliction had destroyed this village, but something had come after. Whatever it was, the event had occurred not too long ago.

"Bandits, maybe" Jakken offered, as though reading his mind. "They are common in these parts."

Still keeping his silence, Sesshoumaru followed the tracks of human and animal until he came across the dead body of a horse. He looked it over briefly, noting the arrows that had taken its life. What happened to the rider? The animal's build suggested this was an animal trained for battle, yet he smelled no gunpowder, sword oils, or banner silks. Something  _else_  lingered instead — the heavy aura of malice. Following more tracks, he ground to a halt, his body growing rigid. In his mind, he knew it was impossible, but the scent surrounding him now could only belong to one being.

 _Kagome_.

Whatever had transpired here, she'd been at the heart of it, and instinct assured him that she was not a willing player in the game. Then another scent appeared: faint, evanescent. Not as familiar, but just as disturbing. His mind conjured the image of white hair and violet eyes, long white ears and three tails.

"Jakken," the demon lord called.

"Yes, My Lord?"

"What do you smell here?"

The toad took several moments to respond. "Horses, humans, sickness…"

"Where is the kitsune?" Sesshoumaru asked, his patience wearing thin.

"The kitsune? Does My Lord mean the servant who has run away? The  _traitor_  who  _abandoned_  me and disobeyed orders?" Jakken paused. "Yes, I smell him now! My Lord Sesshoumaru, I can smell his foul magic here!"

The corner of the demon lord's mouth dipped downward marginally. Jakken had his many uses, but his overflow of emotion was irritating more times than not. He tuned out the rest of his servant's blather, focusing instead on his surroundings. Traitor? The fox? Odd, that. The last report he'd received from his servant had led them here.

 _Susumu —_  the demon lord thought with disgust. So, the damned fox had been here alone.

No, not alone.

Here. With  _her_.

Was he responsible for the traces of fear in her scent? If so, what had he done? Where had he taken her? Jakken labeled him a traitor, but the fox's continued investigation had been enough to make Sesshoumaru believe that the toad was simply exaggerating. Perhaps the kitsune's reports had made the demon lord too calm — too  _complacent_. No lowly servant would risk his wrath. At least, that's what he believed. Had he been so preoccupied in dealing with the other lords that he'd overlooked the chances of treachery within his own house?

Sesshoumaru's anger mounted. His logic pleaded for him to stop, to consider how ridiculous all of this sounded. What would Susumu want with the child he so despised? Why would he be here, in the middle of a ruined human settlement, when he had orders to find the other stones? What was he planning behind Sesshoumaru's back? Did he  _dare_  to go against him?

It was too late to listen to reason. Too late now that his very honor and reputation was at stake.

Before he could give any consent or make a rational decision to, his body was already moving. He soared into the air, following the impressions of hooves in sand and grass, a volcanic flame bursting to life inside his core. Outrage, fury — their flames suffocated him. He thought of the body of the child he'd found not too long ago and imagined dead blue eyes staring up at him — past him,  _through_  him.

 _No_  - he told himself.  _This has nothing to do with her._

He simply wanted to know what was going on here. Susumu would pay for his deceit, and in the process, Sesshoumaru would uncover his pitiful deception and continue his war against the Relegation. That was all that mattered.

That was all he could  _allow_  to matter.


End file.
